In This Issue
Explore the January 1945 print edition below. Or to discover more writing from the pages of The Atlantic, browse the full archive.
No man in the United States has had more to do with public works than ROBERT MOSES. He has been head of the state park system of New York since 1924, park commissioner of New York City and chairman of the Triborough Bridge Authority since 1934. He was Secretary of State under Governor Smith. He is a member of the City Planning Commission. His guiding spirit has trebled the recreation facilities of his state and city, brought into being the great metropolitan parkways and bridges, Jones Beach, and play areas from Niagara Falls to Montauk Point. At the Atlantic's request he speaks his mind on that stubborn problem of slum clearance.
SUMMARY. — This is the story of three generations of an Irish family. In the small, crumbling village of Castlerampart, with its gray, ivy-grown ruins, its thatched cottages and turbulent little river, the most prominent man is Theodore Coniffe, the village landlord. He is indubitably a man of wealth, as the somber quality of his clothes and his house in Clewe Street give proof. Theodore is as penny-pinching as his wife Katherine is vain. Their two daughters, Theresa aud Sara, grow up to be young ladies of property, if not of good looks. But their chance for sociability and courtship is cut short by their mother’s sudden death while they are still in their teens. Katherine dies in giving birth to her third daughter, and little Lily becomes the timid Cinderella of the household. She is sixteen years younger than Theresa, and the bossing and discipline she receives from her oldest sister threaten to drain the youth from Lily’s not very robust character.