| Argwings and the Lamplighters |
| HM Books |
| HM Productions Intl. All Rights Reserved |
| copyright 2008 by HM Entertainment Inc. |
| LATEST RELEASE |
THE LAMPLIGHTERS
They arrived on a dark and stormy night, with
the rain pouring cold from the black skies. No
one saw how they came or from which direction
they came. Some say they appeared with the
first drop of rain, some say the last and some
that they never left. Their names were
unknown. They came to be known as the
lamplighters.
When a cold storm devastates Argwings’ hometown,
everyone blames it on the two strangers who have
suddenly appeared as if from nowhere and taken up
residence with him in the abandoned house. Since
their arrival, the sun, the moon and the stars have all
disappeared from the sky, crops and animals have
died and the magical tree houses have begun to
decay. Everything looks sad and gloomy. It seems
that the town will die completely unless the town does
something about the strangers. Then, just as the
villagers prepare to invade Argwings’ house and drive
them out, the strangest thing happens.
In this enchanting and wonderful tale, the author
examines what happens to a community’s life and
character as it faces up to the strange and
unexpected.
They arrived on a dark and stormy night, with
the rain pouring cold from the black skies. No
one saw how they came or from which direction
they came. Some say they appeared with the
first drop of rain, some say the last and some
that they never left. Their names were
unknown. They came to be known as the
lamplighters.
When a cold storm devastates Argwings’ hometown,
everyone blames it on the two strangers who have
suddenly appeared as if from nowhere and taken up
residence with him in the abandoned house. Since
their arrival, the sun, the moon and the stars have all
disappeared from the sky, crops and animals have
died and the magical tree houses have begun to
decay. Everything looks sad and gloomy. It seems
that the town will die completely unless the town does
something about the strangers. Then, just as the
villagers prepare to invade Argwings’ house and drive
them out, the strangest thing happens.
In this enchanting and wonderful tale, the author
examines what happens to a community’s life and
character as it faces up to the strange and
unexpected.
It was Argwings who had found the village but Old Grace who had
given its name. When the river had all but dried up, and the land
was dying from thirst, ten families had decided to move from the
barren town to another place to start new lives. Argwings and Old
Grace were one of those families.
The families were walking in a valley, worn-out and weary, when all
of a sudden, six-year-old Argwings went running to the side and up
a hill. Old Grace called for him to come back to the group but he did
not stop. He ran out of sight and did not return. After a short
while, Old Grace and the rest began to worry, for the hills were said
to be haunted by dreadful creatures. They sent two young ones to
go and fetch him, but they too did not return.
The families, now quite worried, decided that they all would go and
look for the children. They walked over the hill, and they too, never
returned.
The families found Argwings standing just over the hill staring at the
most strange and beautiful thing they had ever seen. There below
them lay a stone-paved street. The families had never before seen
a street among the green valleys and the hills. All they ever saw
were footpaths and animal trails crisscrossing the green grass and,
where it did not rain, dust. But never before had they seen a stone-
paved street.
The street was made of beautiful, bright, blue cobblestones, so
clean and polished that the clouds and the sky seemed to float
down below. The soft, billowy clouds were streaked with hues of
pink and orange inside the stones and Argwings and the other two
children had lost themselves in the reflection. So completely
enchanted were they that they did not see what lay before them.
“Goodness gracious,” sighed Old Grace.
On either side of the street grew the most peculiar trees, so
peculiar that the families were not certain they were trees at all.
There were ten of them, five on either side, and their trunks were
enormous in size. They were thick and round, silvery-white and
brown, for the silvery-white was itself a reflection of the clouds in
the street, the prettiest colour of bark they had ever seen.
The tree trunks were almost as big as houses and their branches
reached for the sky. They had leaves wider than the widest
umbrella, so wide they looked like rooftops. These trees also had
flowers, small and silver. The flowers, so soft and fragile, would,
with the slightest breeze, turn into powder and blow away. But,
though the breeze constantly blew, and the silver flowers did blow,
the trees never lacked for them for they seemed to bud continually.
As soon as one left another took its place so instantaneously that it
almost went unnoticed.
“Goodness gracious,” sighed Old Grace yet again.
Tiny, gold watering cans constantly poured out a golden liquid at
the base of the trees. They hung in the air, slightly tilted towards
the ground, not held by anyone or anything.
“Goodness gracious.”
A little pond lay at the end of the street, silvery like the flowers and
the clouds in the cobblestones. The water seemed to drain with
every Argwings’ breath and fill up just as rhythmically.
At the end of the cobbled street, beyond the pond, stood another
hill, and the blue-paved street with its dazzling trees lay neatly
between the two. Beyond the trees, on either side, lush green
valleys bore fruit trees much thinner and more ordinary.
Old Grace started down the hill, slowly for she was very old indeed.
The families followed close behind. Once at Argwings’ side she
placed her hand on his head.
“Argwings,” she said. “Isn’t it very beautiful?”
Argwings looked up at Old Grace with his soft brown eyes and
rewarded her with an angelic smile.
“Come on then,” she said to everyone.
Old Grace approached the tree closest to them. It took her some
time, for she was very old indeed, and had to stop repeatedly to
catch her breath. She stood beneath the tree, her tiny frame as an
ant in comparison. She tapped the bark with her bony, old
knuckles, then placed her ear to the tree and listened.
Bewildered and befuddled the families gathered around and stared
up at the tree. They stared down at the gold watering cans, stared
up at the sky, and finally they stared at the ground and at one
another. Mr. Kindly, who had persuaded the families not to leave
Old Grace and the orphan alone in the old town, now cleared his
throat and stepped forward.
“Old Grace,” he said, “we had better be moving on.”
READ ON ...
given its name. When the river had all but dried up, and the land
was dying from thirst, ten families had decided to move from the
barren town to another place to start new lives. Argwings and Old
Grace were one of those families.
The families were walking in a valley, worn-out and weary, when all
of a sudden, six-year-old Argwings went running to the side and up
a hill. Old Grace called for him to come back to the group but he did
not stop. He ran out of sight and did not return. After a short
while, Old Grace and the rest began to worry, for the hills were said
to be haunted by dreadful creatures. They sent two young ones to
go and fetch him, but they too did not return.
The families, now quite worried, decided that they all would go and
look for the children. They walked over the hill, and they too, never
returned.
The families found Argwings standing just over the hill staring at the
most strange and beautiful thing they had ever seen. There below
them lay a stone-paved street. The families had never before seen
a street among the green valleys and the hills. All they ever saw
were footpaths and animal trails crisscrossing the green grass and,
where it did not rain, dust. But never before had they seen a stone-
paved street.
The street was made of beautiful, bright, blue cobblestones, so
clean and polished that the clouds and the sky seemed to float
down below. The soft, billowy clouds were streaked with hues of
pink and orange inside the stones and Argwings and the other two
children had lost themselves in the reflection. So completely
enchanted were they that they did not see what lay before them.
“Goodness gracious,” sighed Old Grace.
On either side of the street grew the most peculiar trees, so
peculiar that the families were not certain they were trees at all.
There were ten of them, five on either side, and their trunks were
enormous in size. They were thick and round, silvery-white and
brown, for the silvery-white was itself a reflection of the clouds in
the street, the prettiest colour of bark they had ever seen.
The tree trunks were almost as big as houses and their branches
reached for the sky. They had leaves wider than the widest
umbrella, so wide they looked like rooftops. These trees also had
flowers, small and silver. The flowers, so soft and fragile, would,
with the slightest breeze, turn into powder and blow away. But,
though the breeze constantly blew, and the silver flowers did blow,
the trees never lacked for them for they seemed to bud continually.
As soon as one left another took its place so instantaneously that it
almost went unnoticed.
“Goodness gracious,” sighed Old Grace yet again.
Tiny, gold watering cans constantly poured out a golden liquid at
the base of the trees. They hung in the air, slightly tilted towards
the ground, not held by anyone or anything.
“Goodness gracious.”
A little pond lay at the end of the street, silvery like the flowers and
the clouds in the cobblestones. The water seemed to drain with
every Argwings’ breath and fill up just as rhythmically.
At the end of the cobbled street, beyond the pond, stood another
hill, and the blue-paved street with its dazzling trees lay neatly
between the two. Beyond the trees, on either side, lush green
valleys bore fruit trees much thinner and more ordinary.
Old Grace started down the hill, slowly for she was very old indeed.
The families followed close behind. Once at Argwings’ side she
placed her hand on his head.
“Argwings,” she said. “Isn’t it very beautiful?”
Argwings looked up at Old Grace with his soft brown eyes and
rewarded her with an angelic smile.
“Come on then,” she said to everyone.
Old Grace approached the tree closest to them. It took her some
time, for she was very old indeed, and had to stop repeatedly to
catch her breath. She stood beneath the tree, her tiny frame as an
ant in comparison. She tapped the bark with her bony, old
knuckles, then placed her ear to the tree and listened.
Bewildered and befuddled the families gathered around and stared
up at the tree. They stared down at the gold watering cans, stared
up at the sky, and finally they stared at the ground and at one
another. Mr. Kindly, who had persuaded the families not to leave
Old Grace and the orphan alone in the old town, now cleared his
throat and stepped forward.
“Old Grace,” he said, “we had better be moving on.”
READ ON ...
| Argwings and the Lamplighters hm books 2008 |
| A PLACE OF WONDER |
ISBN 978-0-9796476-8-0
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| After a great flood destroys their town ten families decide to go in search of a new place to call home. Argwings the orphan boy leads them to a magical valley where the village of Wonder blooms right before their eyes. When Old Grace passes away, a few years on, Argwings is left all alone and to the mercy of the other families. The same night Argwings discovers a forbidden plan to turn the village into an attraction, a terrible and sudden storm ravages the village, terrifying its residents and destroying its beauty. But with the storm appear the lamplighters, self-appointed guardians, it seems, of the orphan boy. Shall the lamplighters be able to restore the village to its former glory? Shall they be able to escape the evil plans that greedy Mr. Cashin and Mr. Broker devise for them? After losing his parents, his hearing, his speech and even Old Grace, shall Argwings finally find some happiness? |
Argwings and the Lamplighters
