"The star that shone over the cradle in Bethlehem."

He begged her to let him go nearer, but she shook her head.

"Not tonight. Someday you'll see it very clearly."

He was disappointed at that.

"When can I?" he asked.

"I do not know--but someday you and all in the world will see it, when
the Earth people are kind to each other--not once in a while, but
every day--_all the while_--"

"Anyway," said Marmaduke, "I don't think that star is any prettier
than Mother's. It's _bigger_ but not _prettier_."

"No, dear," she said, "not any more beautiful--it's all the same
light. But the Sun is putting on his gold shoes. Look--over there,"
she added, "you can see the reflection."

And sure enough, as Marmaduke looked over to the East, the edge of the
sky was turning to gold.

"You'll have to say goodbye now," the Star Lady told him, not sadly
but gently, "to all the stars and to me. But before you go, listen,
and you'll hear them all singing together. They always do, in the
morning before the Sun comes. There, can you hear it?"