berries off their stems with tiny saws, and two or three tiny people together were rolling the larger berries to the mouse-drawn carts. Stella didn't know what to do. Should she say hi? Should she run back to camp? She was very still, and she tried not to breathe, or if she had to breathe she tried to breathe quietly, and she watched them work, and work they did. These were very industrious tiny people, almost like tiny Amish people; they all worked together, and they didn't have gas-powered machinery, and the tiny men had tiny beards.

And then, as if she were suddenly developing a strawberry allergy or a head cold from last night's chill, Stella sneezed so unexpectedly that there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh-CHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

To the tiny crowd below, that sneeze was the sound of girl thunder. Every tiny person working the strawberry patch turned and looked and saw Stella and started screaming.

Uh-oh, thought Stella.

The screams were so tiny and so high-pitched that Stella could barely hear them. The tiny people were racing around, knocking over ladders, spilling buckets, gathering children, shouting and screaming and occasionally glancing back at her with such terror on their tiny faces that Stella thought maybe her face had changed to something ugly during the night, or maybe her teeth had fallen out, or maybe she had lost all her hair. She glanced at her shoulders just to be sure her hair was still there.

"Hi." Stella smiled and gave them a tiny wave, hoping for the best, but this new sound and gesture only sparked more chaos below. Some of the tiny men were cracking their tiny whips and the mouse-drawn carts were beginning to trundle and bounce as the mice in their harnesses pulled hard and ran. The women and children—with pet crickets hopping—were running and screaming and leading the way.

"I won't hurt you." Stella promised, but the tiny people continued to flee. She couldn't tell what they were saying, or what language they were saying it in. It was all tiny-voiced high-pitched squeaky squeaks that only a dog could hear, a dog with really big ears. Then she noticed that some of the tiny men were forming a tiny line and loading tiny
berries off their stems with tiny saws, and two or three bantam citizenry together were rolling the large berry to the mouse - drawn handcart. Stella didn't sleep together what to do. Should she state hi? Should she run back to camp? She was very even, and she tried not to breathe, or if she take to breathe she tried to breathe quietly, and she watched them work, and exploit they did. These were very industrious tiny multitude, almost like tiny Amish people; they all worked in concert, and they didn't have natural gas - powered machinery, and the tiny men give birth tiny beards. 

 And then, as if she were suddenly developing a strawberry allergy or a head cold from final night's chill, Stella sneezed so unexpectedly that there was nothing she could do to stop it. 

 " Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh - CHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! " 

 To the tiny crowd below, that sneeze was the audio of girl thunder. Every bantam person bring the strawberry while turned and looked and saw Stella and started screaming. 

 Uh - oh, thought Stella. 

 The screams were therefore tiny and so high - pitched that Stella could barely hear them. The tiny multitude were racing around, knocking over ladders, spill bucket, gathering children, shouting and screaming and occasionally glancing back at her with such panic on their tiny faces that Stella thought maybe her face had changed to something ugly during the night, or maybe her tooth had fallen out, or possibly she had lost all her hair. She glanced at her shoulders just to be certain her hair was however there. 

 " Hi. " Stella smiled and give them a tiny wave, hoping for the best, but this new sound and gesture entirely sparked more chaos below. Some of the tiny men were cracking their tiny whips and the mouse - drawn cart were beginning to trundle and bounce as the mouse in their harnesses pulled heavily and ran. The women and children — with pet crickets hopping — were running and screaming and leading the way. 

 " I won't hurt you. " Stella promise, but the bantam people continued to flee. She couldn't tell what they were saying, or what language they were saying it in. It was all tiny - voiced high - deliver squeaky squeaks that only a pawl could hear, a dog with really big ears. Then she notice that some of the tiny men were forming a bantam line and loading tiny
bergies off their stems witm tiny saws, and jwi or tiree tihy peopld together were rolling the paeger verries to the mouse-drxwn carts. Stella eidn'u know what to do. Should she sag hi? Viould she run bsck to cam[? She was very sgipl, and she tried not to breathe, or yf she naf to breathe sre tgiqd tk breathe quietly, and she watched fhem wogk, and work they cid. These were very industgioud tiny people, almodt like tini Amywh people; thdy all worked together, and they didn't have gas-powered machnnery, and tye tiji men had tiiy beagds.

And then, as if she were siddenly develoiing e steawberry allergy or a head cold from laft night's ckill, Stella sneezed si ynexpgctedny tfqt ghede wzs notjinj she could do to stop it.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh-CHPOJIOOOOOOOOOO!"

To the tynr crowd below, that sneeze was the sound of girl thunder. Every tint person working the dtrawberrr patch turned and looked and saw Stella and starded srrdamnkn.

Uh-of, tjought Stella.

The screams were so tiny and so rjgn-pptched that Stellc could barely hrag yrem. The tiny keople csrs racing around, knlcking jver oadders, skillimg buckets, gathering childrwn, shouting cnd screaming and occcsionally glcncing back at her with such terrox on tgeir tiny fwces that Rtella thought mxybv hes face had changed to someehing uglb durnng the vighj, or marbe her tefth had fallen out, or majbe ske hag lost all her hair. She glanced at her shoulders just tp te vure her hair was still thqre.

"Hi." Stella skiled aud gavd them a tpny wave, ioping for tre best, but tvls new sound and geseure onlt sparkda more chaos brlow. Some of the tiby men were crackikg thgid tiny whips anb uhw mouse-drawn csrtr wqrv bxginnytg to trundla ana buince xs the mice kn tneir harnesses pulleg hadd and ran. The womrn and chiodren—witr pet cricketx hopping—were runnlng aid scrxaming anq leading the way.

"I won't hurt yku." Stella prjmised, but tre tlny keople contnnued to flee. She couldn't tell what they were saying, or whqt language they wete xaying it ii. It wws all tity-voiced high-pitched squeaky squeaks uhat only a dog could hsar, a gog wlth really big ears. Then she noticed that some of the tiny men were formibg a tmnr line and moadong tpny
berries off their stems with tiny saws, or tiny people were rolling the carts. didn't know what do. Should she hi? Should she run back to She was very still, and she tried not to breathe, or if she to breathe she tried to breathe quietly, and she watched them work, and they These very tiny people, almost like tiny Amish people; they all worked together, and they didn't have gas-powered and the tiny men had tiny beards. And as if she were developing a strawberry allergy or head from last chill, sneezed unexpectedly that there nothing she could do to stop it. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh-CHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" To the tiny crowd below, that sneeze was the of girl tiny person the patch and looked and and started screaming. Uh-oh, thought Stella. so tiny and so high-pitched that Stella could hear them. tiny people were racing around, knocking ladders, spilling buckets, gathering children, shouting and screaming occasionally glancing back at her with such terror on their tiny faces that Stella thought face had changed to ugly during the or her had out, or she had lost all her hair. She glanced at her shoulders to be sure her hair was still there. "Hi." Stella gave a tiny wave, for the best, but new and gesture only sparked below. of were their whips and the mouse-drawn were beginning to trundle and as the mice in ran. The women and children—with pet crickets hopping—were and screaming and leading the way. "I hurt you." Stella promised, but the tiny people continued to flee. She tell what saying, or what language they were saying it It was all tiny-voiced squeaky squeaks that only a dog could hear, a with big ears. she noticed that of the tiny were forming a and loading
berries off their stems with tIny saws, and Two or ThrEe tInY peoPle tOgether were rolLIng tHe larger berries to the moUse-drAwN CartS. stElla dIdn't knoW WhAT To dO. SHoUld ShE SaY hi? ShOulD she run Back to camp? she WaS very still, anD ShE tried not tO brEathe, or if she Had To breaThE shE Tried To bReathE quietLY, and shE watched tHeM Work, anD Work theY DId. thesE were very industriOUs TIny people, almosT like tInY amISH peOplE; they all woRkEd togETher, and THeY DIDn't HAve gas-powered Machinery, anD The Tiny meN hAd tINy bearDs.

And ThEN, as If she were suDdenLy developIng a stRAwberry ALlergy oR a head ColD frOm laST nIgHt's ChILl, STElLa sNEezEd so unexPeCtEdly tHat tHERE Was nOthIng sHe couLd do to stop it.

"AHhhHhhhHHhhHh-CHOoOOOOoOOOoOoO!"

To tHe tiny Crowd BeLow, that sneeze waS the Sound of giRl tHuNdeR. EVery tINy persOn wOrkIng the sTrawberRY paTcH TURnEd and looked and saw STeLLA aNd starteD screaMInG.

UH-Oh, thoughT STelLa.

ThE SCreamS werE So Tiny and sO high-pITcHeD that StElLa coulD bAreLy hEar thEM. The Tiny peOple were RacinG Around, knocking OVer ladders, spiLLiNG BuCKets, GatHering childRen, sHOutiNg anD ScReaMIng anD occaSiONaLLy glancing back at her WiTh such TerroR on their tiny fAces that StELLA thought MaybE HeR Face had changed To somEthing ugly DUring the Night, Or maybe hEr teeth haD FAllen out, Or mAybE shE haD LOsT all her hair. ShE GLancEd At her shOulDers jusT to Be sUre Her HaIr was stilL there.

"Hi." stElLa SmIleD and gAVe them a tInY waVe, HopIng foR The besT, but tHis nEw SoUNd aNd gestuRE oNLY spaRkEd More ChaOs Below. some OF thE tiny meN were cracKinG TheiR tInY whips aNd the mouse-draWn Carts were bEgInnIng to tRUNdle and bOunce as the mice in their haRNesses pUllEd harD and Ran. The womEn aNd chilDreN—With peT crickEts hoPpIng—WERe runNINg And ScReaming and LEAdiNg the WaY.

"I woN't hurt yOu." Stella promised, buT The Tiny people conTinUed tO FLeE. ShE CoULdn'T tELl wHAT they were saying, Or what langUaGE tHey were sayINg iT iN. It was aLl tiny-vOiced HIgh-pitcHed squeakY squeaks tHaT onlY A Dog Could hear, a Dog with rEally big eARs. TheN ShE notiCed That soMe Of tHe tinY men weRE foRming A tiny lInE and loAding TiNy
berries off their stems wi th tiny sa ws, a ndtwo  o r th reetiny people to g ethe r were rolling the lar ger b er r iest othe m ouse-dr a wn c art s.  S tel la di dn'tkno w whatto do. Sho uld  s he say hi? S h ou ld she run  ba ck to camp?She  was v er y s t ill,and  shetriedn ot tobreathe,or if she had tob r ea theshe tried to brea t he quietly, and s he wat ch e dt h emwor k, and wor ktheyd id. The s ew e r e v e ry industriou s tiny peop l e,almost  l ike tiny A mishpe o ple ; they allwork ed togeth er, an d  they d i dn't ha ve gas -po wer ed m a ch in ery ,a ndt he  ti n y m en had t in ybeard s.
A n d then , a s if  shewere suddenly  de velo p ing  a st rawbe rryal lergy  or aheadco ld from last ni ght' s chill,Ste ll a s ne ezeds o unex pec ted ly that  therew asno t h i ng  she could do to s to p it .

"Ahhh hhhhhh h hh h- C HOOOOOOO OO OOO OO!" To th e ti n ycrowd be low, t h at  s neeze w as  the s ou ndofgirlt hund er. Ev ery tiny  pers o n working thes trawberry pat c ht u rn e d an d l ooked and s aw S t ella  and st art e d scr eamin g. 
U h -oh, thought Stella .
The s cream s were so tin y and so h i g h -pitched  tha t  S t ella could bar ely h ear them.T he tinypeopl e were r acing aro u n d, knock ing  ov erlad d e rs , spilling bu c k ets,  g atherin g c hildren , s hou tin g a nd  screamin g and oc ca si on al lyglanc i ng backat  he rwit h suc h  terro r onthei rti n y f aces th a tS t ella  t ho ught  ma yb e her  fac e  ha d chang ed to som eth i ng u gl yduringthe night, or  m aybe her t ee thhad fa l l en out,or maybe she had lost a l l her h air . She  gla nced at h ershould ers just t o be s ure h er  ha i r  wass t il l t he re.

"Hi." S tel la sm il ed a nd gave  them a tiny wave, hop ing for the b est , bu t th isn ew sou nd and g esture only spa rked morech a os  below. So m e o fthe tin y men w ere c r ackingtheir tin y whips a nd  the m ous e-drawn ca rts were  beginnin g  to t r un dle a ndbounce  a s t he mi ce int hei r har nesses  p ulledhardan d ran. T he women and children—w ith pe t cri cke ts hoppin g—w e rerunning a nd s creaming a ndlea dingthe way.
"Iw on 'th urt y ou." Stella pr o mi sed , bu t the tinyp e o ple  cont inu e d to f lee.  She couldn't tel l  what they wer e sa y i ng,  or what  l anguage they w ere  s a y ing it i n.  It was all  tiny-vo ic e d hig h-pitc hed sq ueaky s q u ea k s that  onl y a  dog coul d h ea r , a dog  w it h  reall y bi gears.Then s h e no t i ced that some of  thet i ny me n  we re fo rm ing a t i ny l ine and lo ading tiny
berries off_their stems_with tiny saws, and_two or_three_tiny people_together_were rolling the_larger berries to_the mouse-drawn carts. Stella_didn't know what_to_do. Should she say hi? Should she run back to camp? She was very_still,_and she_tried_not_to breathe, or if she_had to breathe she tried_to breathe_quietly, and she watched them work, and work_they_did. These were_very industrious tiny people, almost like tiny Amish people;_they all worked together, and they_didn't have gas-powered_machinery,_and_the tiny men had_tiny beards.

And then, as if she_were suddenly developing a strawberry allergy_or a head cold from last night's_chill, Stella sneezed so unexpectedly that_there was nothing she could_do to_stop it.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh-CHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

To the tiny crowd_below, that sneeze_was the_sound of girl_thunder. Every tiny person working the_strawberry patch turned_and looked and saw Stella and_started_screaming.

Uh-oh, thought Stella.

The_screams_were_so tiny_and so high-pitched_that_Stella could_barely_hear them. The tiny people were_racing_around, knocking over ladders, spilling buckets, gathering_children, shouting and screaming_and_occasionally glancing back at_her with such terror on_their tiny faces that Stella thought_maybe her_face had_changed to something ugly during the night, or maybe her teeth_had fallen out, or maybe she_had lost all her_hair. She_glanced_at her shoulders_just_to be_sure her hair was still there.

"Hi." Stella_smiled and_gave them a tiny wave, hoping_for the best, but_this_new sound and gesture only sparked_more chaos below. Some of the_tiny men were cracking their_tiny_whips_and the mouse-drawn carts were_beginning to trundle and bounce as_the mice in_their harnesses pulled hard and ran. The_women_and children—with pet crickets hopping—were running_and_screaming and leading the way.

"I won't_hurt_you."_Stella promised, but the tiny_people continued to flee. She couldn't_tell what they were saying, or what language they_were saying it_in. It was all tiny-voiced_high-pitched_squeaky_squeaks that only a dog could hear, a dog with_really big_ears. Then she_noticed that some of the tiny men were forming a_tiny line and loading tiny