Capn Dans Daughter

Cap'n Dan's Daughter

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Lincoln (#13 in our series by Joseph C. Lincoln)
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Title: Cap'n Dan's Daughter
Author: Joseph C. Lincoln
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CAP'N DAN'S DAUGHTER
by
JOSEPH C. LINCOLN
1914

CAP'N DAN'S DAUGHTER

CHAPTER I
The Metropolitan Dry Goods and Variety Store at Trumet Centre was
open for business. Sam Bartlett, the boy whose duty it was to take
down the shutters, sweep out, dust, and wait upon early-bird customers,
had performed the first three of these tasks and gone home for breakfast.
The reason he had not performed the fourth-- the waiting upon
customers--was simple enough; there had been no customers to wait
upon. The Metropolitan Dry Goods and Variety Store was open and
ready for business--but, unfortunately, there was no business.
There should have been. This was August, the season of the year when,
if ever, Trumet shopkeepers should be beaming across their counters at
the city visitor, male or female, and telling him or her, that "white duck
hats are all the go this summer," or "there's nothin' better than an
oilskin coat for sailin' cruises or picnics." Outing shirts and yachting
caps, fancy stationery, post cards, and chocolates should be changing
hands at a great rate and the showcase, containing the nicked blue
plates and cracked teapots, the battered candlesticks and tarnished
pewters, "genuine antiques," should be opened at frequent intervals for

the inspection of bargain-seeking mothers and their daughters. July and
August are the Cape Cod harvest months; if the single-entry ledgers of
Trumet's business men do not show good-sized profits during that
season they are not likely to do so the rest of the year.
Captain Daniel Dott, proprietor of the Metropolitan Store, bending over
his own ledger spread on the little desk by the window at the rear of his
establishment, was realizing this fact, realizing it with a sinking heart
and a sense of hopeless discouragement. The summer was almost over;
September was only three days off; in another fortnight the hotels
would be closed, the boarding houses would be closing, and Trumet,
deserted by its money spending visitors, would be falling asleep,
relapsing into its autumn and winter hibernation. And the Dott ledger,
instead of showing a profit of a thousand or fifteen hundred dollars, as
it had the first summer after Daniel bought the business, showed but a
meager three hundred and fifty, over and above expenses.
Through the window the sun was shining brightly. From the road in
front of the store--Trumet's "Main Street"--came the rattle of wheels
and the sound of laughter and conversation in youthful voices. The
sounds drew nearer. Someone shouted "Whoa!" Daniel Dott, a ray of
hope illuminating his soul at the prospect of a customer, rose hurriedly
from his seat by the desk and hastened out into the shop.
A big two-horsed vehicle, the "barge" from the Manonquit House, had
stopped before the door. It was filled with a gay crowd, youths and
maidens from the hotel, dressed in spotless flannels and "blazers," all
talking at once, and evidently carefree and happy. Two of the
masculine members of the party descended from the "barge" and
entered the store. Daniel, smiling his sweetest, stepped forward to meet
them.
"Good mornin', good mornin'," he said. "A fine mornin', ain't it?"
The greeting was acknowledged by both of the young fellows, and one
of them added that it was a fine morning, indeed.
"Don't know as I ever saw a finer," observed Daniel. "Off on a cruise

somewhere, I presume likely; hey?"
"Picnic down at the Point."
"Well, you've got picnic weather,