He shut his eyes a minute, to see what would happen, and he heard the
voice singing a funny sort of song--no, not funny, but pretty.

And this was the song:

"Light, light
By day or night;
Stars in the skies,
Stars in the eyes."

He opened his. And there before him, in front of the window, stood a
little lady. He thought she was dressed in white, then he decided it
was yellow, then gold and white.

She walked, yet she seemed to be pasted on a big, shiny star. The top
point rose just above her head, making the peak of a crown. The two
middle points stuck out beyond her shoulders like bright moth wings,
and the two bottom points extended below her waist, and away from her,
like the ends of a sash.

At first Marmaduke thought she must be a painted doll, such as you see
in the magazines about Christmas time, made for little children to cut
out. But her golden hair was not still like that, but was always in
motion like crinkly water that flows over the stones in the brook when
the sun shines on it. And there on the rag rug, his own rag rug, were
her little feet--very white, with little toes, and she could sing,
too. My, how she could sing! No, she was not any painted doll.

She was going on with that song now: