"What kind of stars?"

"Would you like to see them?"

"You bet I would," Marmaduke started to say, then stopped. That
sounded rather rude. Still she didn't reprove him; she didn't seem to
mind it a bit. There was something very homelike about her, for all
she was so radiant and bright.

"I understand perfectly," she assured him, "but we must be off before
daylight." Then she turned to the bureau.

"Take the Little Blue Lamp with you, then you'll seem like a star,
too."

Now long ago Marmaduke had made another trip to the skies, to see The
Old Man in the Moon, but that journey was never like this. This was so
much more beautiful.

He didn't feel as if he were walking or riding, just rising in the air
with one hand clasped in the fingers of the Star Lady, the other
around the little lamp.

Marmaduke wondered if all the people would look up and see his little
light.

"Perhaps they can see just the light and not me," he said to himself,
"and that would be just right."

They rose up over the trees, then over the brook, and he saw himself