Nobody saw the little monkey galloping down the sidewalk except for the mailman, who thought it was a cat. After a few blocks Lobelia reached the entrance to a park where she ran inside, darted behind a hedge, and stopped to catch her breath. She put her furry little face in her paws and burst into tears. At least, that’s what she wanted to do, but monkeys don’t cry. No tears came out of her eyes, and that made her feel even worse. At that moment she was the most miserable little ball of monkey in the entire world. Up until now, Lobelia had always gotten everything she wanted just by screaming. If screaming didn’t work, then throwing something usually did the trick. Now, even though there was nobody to scream at, she threw a colossal temper tantrum anyway because that was all she could think of to do. It was her last resort. She rolled around in the dirt under the shrub and kicked and squalled in her new, tiny, whispery voice. She tried to shout as loud as she could, but it wouldn’t come out of her throat.
