Sometimes they would be quite near enough to the stars they passed to discern the people who dwelt upon them, and she felt for them a friendship at once, and only longed that she might go down and tell them so.
The child had forgotten she was plain and odd; she did not think to ask herself whether the people on those bright stars, so beautiful and happy, might not repulse her for her homeliness.
At last they did approach one bright star, and Ruth saw, to her delight, that, when the cloud had come down into a lovely garden, the old woman
stepped off from it, then took her up also, and placed her on the ground. Then the cloud, which had been their chariot (and a far better one it was than ever king had to be drawn in), rose upward, and began its gentle course in the sky.
When the old woman saw how Ruth looked after it, she said to her:
"I use all the clouds in that way, more or less, and all those about your earth do many such a service while the people little dream of it. In fact, every one there looks down upon the ground too much; they have no idea of the goodly things they would find if they searched upwards more."
The old woman sighed as she said this. Such a happy and pleasant looking old woman to have sighed so deeply!
Then she took Ruth's hand, and led her towards her cottage, which was the most beautiful thing you ever could imagine. Without, it had the tints of the mother-of-pearl, while its framework was of silver. The windows and doors were of diamonds, and there sparkled from them continually all the rich tints of the rainbow. Within, everything was wrought of the finest silver, and the
rooms were hung, some in delicate blue silk, others in rose colors.
Ruth was entirely overwhelmed with the beauty of the house,—so much so, as to stand still, looking at the things about her.