The Legend of the Pollywallygoogoo Ant
In the early mid 1870s a Dr. Gunther Sach, or as his friends affectionately called him, "Gunny", upon returning to his native Australia from an exploration expedition
in Bangladesh, immediately embarked on a voyage to Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. When he arrived there, he was met with much
hostility from the females of the native population. Namely, his wife Pouncing Possum, whom he had met and wed five years before on a previous
expedition. Needless to say, Pouncing Possum and her sisters and mother were none too pleased that Dr. Sach had left his bride for such a long
spell.
Pouncing Possum, though a mere eighteen years of age, feared that she would be put to eternal humiliation for all sixteen of her sisters had produced
at least one child by this time, and their husbands stood faithfully by their sides. Their constant presence could get irritating, especially since the men
did all the hunting, so the family would begin to starve before finally, the wives would decide to lead their men out into the hunt. Still, in the tribe of the
Quackaloochee, having a faithful husband was a sign of honor and great social standing.
For his great indiscretion of leaving the beautiful Pouncing Possum for such a long spell, it was decided that Dr. Sach should be physically chained into
the tree house that he and his bride were to make their home. For five years, he was chained there. After the five years were up, he had certainly
learned his lesson to stay faithfully by his wife's side.
During this time it was very difficult to do the hunting. He had to attempt to shoot any game that happened within range of the tree house. Then
he had to pay a young boy to fetch the kill for him. By the end of the years of punishment, Mr. and Mrs. Sach had three children. And little Leaping
Lime was big enough to fetch small prey, which was a great relief for the Sachs since they were becoming hard for cash with having to pay someone
to fetch the game for them.
It was during these five years that Dr. Sach was chained in his home in a kind of marriage prison that he wrote a most fascinating correspondence to
his late sister, a Mrs. Gertrude McBray of New South Wales, Australia.
"I witnessed a most fascinating elaboration during my time in southeast midwestern Bangladesh," wrote Sach, and his late sister no doubt read it once
the letter had sailed across the sea and been placed in her own two dainty valuable hands.
"There is an insect which is quite familiar and common, and sometimes not at all a rarity near the villages of this region of Bangladesh. It is called
by the natives of Tajikistan a pollywallygoogoo. It is a species of ant, but it has the most brazenly fashionable coloring I have ever seen on an insect
of its stature! It is a kind of dark fuchsia or a periwinkle or orange denim, if you will. I witnessed twice, and am told by the elders of the neighboring countries
that this phenomenon is repeated monthly in these hills of midwestern Bangladesh. A family of pollywallygoogoo ants can be seen to gather under
a rather peculiar flower known to the native cobras as wild chaptoulin. The ants will wrap up gifts in beautiful wrappings which they have gathered
from nature and from the villages, and they will place them under this flower. Then the biggest pollywallygoogoo ant of the tribe will come with a
big red bag filled with dung beetle feces and he will smash the beautifully ornamented packages with the sack. The meaning of this ritual is not known,
but it seems to be a very festive occasion that all the ants look forward to with great excitement."
Naturally, when this was read in Australia it was passed around and read again and again. Everyone was fascinated by this tale.
Then one year a man named Hoozit determined to make a similar celebration become rampant in his fatherland. Of course, over the years the
bag of dung was replaced by something more tasteful and instead of smashing the gifts, we now open them and keep them. And since our pocket
books are so very limited the celebration has been traditionally set to be only observed once a year.
in Bangladesh, immediately embarked on a voyage to Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. When he arrived there, he was met with much
hostility from the females of the native population. Namely, his wife Pouncing Possum, whom he had met and wed five years before on a previous
expedition. Needless to say, Pouncing Possum and her sisters and mother were none too pleased that Dr. Sach had left his bride for such a long
spell.
Pouncing Possum, though a mere eighteen years of age, feared that she would be put to eternal humiliation for all sixteen of her sisters had produced
at least one child by this time, and their husbands stood faithfully by their sides. Their constant presence could get irritating, especially since the men
did all the hunting, so the family would begin to starve before finally, the wives would decide to lead their men out into the hunt. Still, in the tribe of the
Quackaloochee, having a faithful husband was a sign of honor and great social standing.
For his great indiscretion of leaving the beautiful Pouncing Possum for such a long spell, it was decided that Dr. Sach should be physically chained into
the tree house that he and his bride were to make their home. For five years, he was chained there. After the five years were up, he had certainly
learned his lesson to stay faithfully by his wife's side.
During this time it was very difficult to do the hunting. He had to attempt to shoot any game that happened within range of the tree house. Then
he had to pay a young boy to fetch the kill for him. By the end of the years of punishment, Mr. and Mrs. Sach had three children. And little Leaping
Lime was big enough to fetch small prey, which was a great relief for the Sachs since they were becoming hard for cash with having to pay someone
to fetch the game for them.
It was during these five years that Dr. Sach was chained in his home in a kind of marriage prison that he wrote a most fascinating correspondence to
his late sister, a Mrs. Gertrude McBray of New South Wales, Australia.
"I witnessed a most fascinating elaboration during my time in southeast midwestern Bangladesh," wrote Sach, and his late sister no doubt read it once
the letter had sailed across the sea and been placed in her own two dainty valuable hands.
"There is an insect which is quite familiar and common, and sometimes not at all a rarity near the villages of this region of Bangladesh. It is called
by the natives of Tajikistan a pollywallygoogoo. It is a species of ant, but it has the most brazenly fashionable coloring I have ever seen on an insect
of its stature! It is a kind of dark fuchsia or a periwinkle or orange denim, if you will. I witnessed twice, and am told by the elders of the neighboring countries
that this phenomenon is repeated monthly in these hills of midwestern Bangladesh. A family of pollywallygoogoo ants can be seen to gather under
a rather peculiar flower known to the native cobras as wild chaptoulin. The ants will wrap up gifts in beautiful wrappings which they have gathered
from nature and from the villages, and they will place them under this flower. Then the biggest pollywallygoogoo ant of the tribe will come with a
big red bag filled with dung beetle feces and he will smash the beautifully ornamented packages with the sack. The meaning of this ritual is not known,
but it seems to be a very festive occasion that all the ants look forward to with great excitement."
Naturally, when this was read in Australia it was passed around and read again and again. Everyone was fascinated by this tale.
Then one year a man named Hoozit determined to make a similar celebration become rampant in his fatherland. Of course, over the years the
bag of dung was replaced by something more tasteful and instead of smashing the gifts, we now open them and keep them. And since our pocket
books are so very limited the celebration has been traditionally set to be only observed once a year.
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