At No. 76 Clare Street in the little Welsh town of Merthyr, an old man sits before a glowing fireplace. Aberdare Mountain rises just opposite the front porch and the River Taff flows by the back garden. At 79, old Jim Horner, sometime foremen at the Merthyr railroad station, is as clear of speech and keen of wit as ever. He is also as stoutly devoted as ever to his son Arthur, old Jim's pride and pain. Arthur has gone far since his childhood in Merthyr. Today he holds the fate of the...
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