rench's International Copyrighted (in England, her Colonies, and 
 the United States) Edition of the Works of the Best Authors 
 
 RS. COULSON'S 
 DAUGHTER 
 
 B One act HMag tot (3frlg 
 
 BY 
 
 ELIZABETH GALE 
 
 Author of "Aunt Maggie's Will," " The Rag-Carpet Bee." 
 
 CAUTION.— The professional acting rights of "Mrs. Coulsoirs 
 Daughter." are reserved. For terms for professional use, apply- 
 to Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street. New York. This notice 
 does not apply to amateurs, who may perform the play without 
 permission. 
 
 New York 
 SAMUEL FRENCH 
 
 PUBLISHER 
 
 28^30 WEST 38th STREET 
 
 London 
 
 SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 
 
 26 Southampton Street 
 
 STRAND 
 
 ••••••••• aoao»©o©co©ea®» 
 
 ••€••••••••• 
 
MRS. COULSON'S 
 DAUGHTER 
 
 U ©ne Met ©lag for ©iris 
 
 ELIZABETH GALE 
 
 Author of "Aunt Maggie's Will," " The Rag-Carpet Bee." 
 
 Copyright, 1912, by Samuel French 
 
 CAUTION,— The professional acting rights of "Mrs. Coulson's 
 Daughter," are reserved. For terms for professional use, apply- 
 to Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York. This notice 
 does not apply to amateurs, who may perform the play without 
 permission . 
 
 New York 
 SAMUEL FRENCH 
 
 PUBLISHER 
 
 28-30 WEST 38th STREET 
 
 London 
 SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 
 
 26 Southampton Street 
 STRAND 
 
"y> c ^ 
 
 <W 
 
 MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 
 
 SYNOPSIS — Mrs Plympton receives a note from 
 Mrs. Coulson, an old school friend, saying that she 
 is leaving her daughter to the care of the neighbor- 
 hood. She neglects to mention, however, that she is 
 simply taking a trip to Enrope, and it is at once as- 
 sumed that she is going to die. At the same time 
 Mrs. Plympton has arranged to take a girl from the 
 Westville Orphan Asylum to help her with her work. 
 This orphan comes before she is expected and is mis- 
 taken for Mrs. Coulson's child who arrives in time 
 to see how the supposed daughter of her mother is 
 received. This helps her to choose her temporary 
 guardian from among the villagers and leads, her to 
 offer this guardian well deserved assistance. 
 
 The situation offers opportunities for humor and 
 the play closes with the happy disposal of the orphan. 
 
 LIST OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 Arabella Beans A busy woman who owes a 
 
 mortgage. 
 
 Susie Chain Who is always in doubt. 
 
 Minnie Hays A very positive person. 
 
 Lizzie Land A plain country woman. 
 
 Mrs. Little A stout lady. 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. .. .A woman of great importance 
 
 whose husband's people. gave the name to the 
 
 . , : • village. 
 
 The Orphan Who tries to speak for herself 
 
 Carolyn. 
 Grace. 
 Ruth. 
 Myrtle. 
 
 Four girls from the city. 
 
 ©CI.D 30714 
 
MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 
 
 THE SCENE is the sitting room in Mrs. Bean's 
 home. It is exceedingly neat but very scantily fur- 
 nished. A few brilliant pictures decorate the walls 
 and advertise Starlight Soap, Barton's Ball Blueing, 
 Putnam's Ploughs, etc. Eag carpet covers the floor, 
 a table is pushed against the right hand wall, a cup- 
 board against the wall opposite, a sewing machine 
 stands at the extreme left of the foreground and 
 chairs are arranged primly about the room. At the 
 rear of the room, to the right, is a door which opens 
 out on the porch and another door at the left leads 
 into the kitchen. 
 
 Arabella Beans is discovered sewing furiously on 
 the machine. 
 
 Arabella, (as she finishes the garment she is 
 working on and throws it over the back of a near-by 
 chair) There! That's finished, all but the buttons 
 and buttonholes, and it means a whole half dollar 
 paid off that mortgage, and maybe, if I work like a 
 steam engine, I can get the other one done, (she 
 picks up another piece of work and begins to sew) 
 Land knows I need to do all I can. (a rap at the 
 door) Come in. 
 
 (Enter Susie Grain.) 
 
 Susie. Why, how d' do, Arabella. You ain't 
 working are you? 
 
 3 
 
4 MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 
 
 Arabella, (crisply) Of course I'm workin'. 
 With a mortgage to pay off, interest and taxes com- 
 ing due and no one to help me out, I'd be plumb 
 crazy if I didn't work. 
 
 Susie, (limply dragging a chair forward and seat- 
 ing herself) W-well, I don't know. When all this 
 company's comin' 
 
 Arabella. Can't stop for company. I didn't ask 
 'em here anyway. 
 
 Susie. You didn't 
 
 Arabella, (turning about and for the first time 
 giving her full attention to her guest) No, I didn't. 
 But since you've just come home from a visit per- 
 haps you don't know all about it yet. (Susie shakes 
 her head) It was this way. Mrs. Plympton got 
 a letter yesterday which she says concerns the whole 
 neighborhood, so, of course, they all had to get to- 
 gether to hear it and since I couldn't leave my work 
 they're comin' here. That's why I'm havin' a party. 
 (turning bach to her machine) There ain't no re- 
 freshments in it either. 
 
 Susie. I think I hear some one comin' now. 
 
 (After rapping briskly Lizzie Land and Minnie 
 Hayes come bustling in.) 
 
 Arabella. How d' do, folks. Come right in and 
 make yourselves at home. Don't mind me. I can't 
 stop work. 
 
 Lizzie. How d' do, everybody. 
 
 Minnie. How d' do Arabella. Hello, Susie. I 
 knew you'd be here, and of course I know that Mrs. 
 Plympton won't be along for half an hour yet. She's 
 as slow as a turtle. But I ain't curious about her 
 letter. I guess I know what's in it. 
 
 (Enter Mrs. Little without the formality of a rap.) 
 
MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 5 
 
 Mrs. Little. Whew ! Such a hill ! I'm most 
 worn out! (she sinks into the nearest chair and 
 fans herself with a handkerchief) 
 
 Arabella, (without stopping her work) How 
 d' do, Mrs. Little. 
 
 Mrs. Little. AYhew ! Whew ! 
 
 Minnie, (confidently) You'll git your breath 
 back presently. I knew you'd be coniin' along right 
 after us. How are you? 
 
 Mrs. Little. Very poorly. Whew! 
 
 Minnie, (aside) You look it. (to Susie) I 
 suppose you've heard about this letter Mrs. Plymp- 
 ton got yesterday ? I'm sure I don't care what's in it 
 but she wanted us all to hear it so I came along with 
 the rest, (impatiently) I wish she'd hurry up. 
 Xot that I want to hear the letter, but I would like 
 to git home to mend Jim's pants. My land! he 
 ain't got a thing that's fit to wear. 
 
 Mrs. Little, (peeking through the crack of the 
 door) Here she comes this minute. 
 
 (There is a short expectant hush during which Ara- 
 bella continues to sew and the others surrepti- 
 tiously do a little primping.) 
 
 Arabella. 
 Minnie. 
 
 (A rap at the door.) 
 
 Come in. 
 
 All. (as Mrs. Plympton enters) How d' do, 
 Mrs. Plympton. 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. Good afternoon, ladies. How d' 
 do, Mrs. Beans. You aren't busy, are you? 
 
 Arabellia. (turning back to the machine*) Yes, 
 of course I'm busy. I always am — busy as a bee in a 
 tar barrel. But don't mind me. Go right on with 
 
6 MRS. COULSON'3 DAUGHTER 
 
 your meetin'. {They all exchange looks of disap- 
 proval) I am goin' to stop the machine in a minute 
 anyway and jest do hand work. 
 
 Minnie. Yes, let us go right on and get through. 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. {drawing a chair forward and 
 pealing herself with an air of importance) We will 
 wait for Mrs. Beans. 
 
 (All of the others dravj their chairs eagerly about 
 her, but Arabella sits through the whole scene 
 a little aloof before her machine.) 
 
 Lizzie. I hope you didn't forget the letter. 
 
 Mrs. Plymptox. Certainly not. I never forget. 
 
 Minnie. Got it in your pocket, have you? 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. I have it in my purse. 
 
 Arabella, {closing the machine) There! Pve 
 finished 'em all but the hand work. Now let's hear 
 what there is to hear. 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. You will all give me your at- 
 tention, then? 
 
 Arabella. Uhum. 
 
 (All but Arabella hitch their chairs a little nearer 
 Mrs. Plympton and she brings out a rather 
 small, very ladylike looking envelope.) 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. {with provoking slowness) It 
 is the queerest letter you ever saw, and when I first 
 opened it 
 
 Minnie, {reaching for it) Let me see. 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. {snatching the letter away from 
 her) I will read it presently, but I think I ought to 
 prepare you first for the shock 
 
 Mrs. Little, {throwing up her hands) Another 
 shock ! 
 
 Minnie. Never mind the shock, go on with the 
 letter. 
 
MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 7 
 
 Mes. Plympton. I must tell you first that it is 
 from Lena Simpson — that was. You all remember 
 her. 
 
 Lizzie. Yes, of course. Me and her went to 
 school together. 
 
 Susie. And I used to think she was sort of pretty, 
 too. 
 
 Mes. Little. She married that rich man from 
 the city, didn't she? And he died and left her well 
 off. 
 
 Mes. Plympton. That's what folks said, but this 
 don't sound like he was very well off. Jest listen now. 
 The envelope is addressed to me but this is the letter. 
 (reading.) 
 
 My dearest old friends'. 
 
 Minnie. That sounds like she wanted something. 
 
 Mes. Plympton. (continuing to read) I am 
 leaving my daughter Carolyn in charge of the neigh- 
 hood, feeling that she will be quite safe there when I 
 am gone. She will choose one of you for her special 
 guardian but I am sure you will all be good to her. 
 I can write no more now. Lovingly yours, Lena 
 Simpson Coulson. 
 
 Minnie. Lena Simpson's daughter left on the 
 town! 
 
 Susie. TV-well I never! 
 
 Arabella. My, my, though ! Ain't that too bad. 
 
 Lizzie. I jest can't believe it all at once. 
 
 Mes. Little. I call it pretty cool, the way she 
 packs the child off to us. A body'd think we was 
 havin' a donation party. Didn't her father have 
 no folks? 
 
 Mes. Plympton. I am sure I don't know. 
 
 Mes. Little. That jest beats everything I ever 
 heard of — leavin' her daughter to us to support. 
 
8 MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 
 
 And she's offered to us like she was some sort of a 
 prize package. 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. But you haven't heard all. The 
 letter came last night but this noon I got this tele- 
 gram, (reading the telegram) Lena Simpson's 
 daughter will arrive at Plympton on the 4.40 train. 
 (signed) S. S. W. 
 
 Lizzie. Who is S. S. W? 
 
 Mes. Plympton. I am sure 2" don't know. 
 
 Mrs. Little. Humph! 
 
 Minnie. It certainly is a mighty queer piece of 
 business and I want to know who's goin' to take her. 
 
 Mrs. Little. Well I can't do it ; I am jest about 
 worn out now. 
 
 Minnie. And I won't. Sakes alive ! it is all I can 
 do to make ends meet now without another mouth 
 comin' in between. 
 
 Lizzie. That's jest how I feel. 
 
 Arabella. (thoughtfully) And I've got my 
 mortgage to pay off. 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. And worse still, I have just 
 ordered a girl from the Westville Orphanage to help 
 me through the summer and she is coming to-mor- 
 row, so, of course I can't think of taking her. 
 
 Susie. W-well, I don't know, but it seems to 
 me that we ain't goin' to have much choice in the 
 matter. The letter says the girl will choose her own 
 guardian. 
 
 Minnie. Well, she won't choose me. 
 
 Lizzie. Nor me. 
 
 Mrs. Little. ISTor me. 
 
 Arabella. Who's goin' to the train to meet her ? 
 
 Minnie. She ain't goin' to be met. 
 
 Arabella. It's a long lonely walk and it's 
 goin' to be sort of discouragin' findin' no one home 
 till she gits here — and her jest loosin' her mother 
 and all. 
 
MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 9 
 
 Minnie. Fiddlesticks! Lonely! Humph! A 
 woman like you with a mortgage to pay off ought not 
 to have time to talk such stuff and nonsense. 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. I'll tell you what we can do. 
 "We can all take our chairs out into the orchard and 
 from there we can see the train come in and watch 
 her comin' most of the way from the station here. 
 
 Lizzie. That will he fine. 
 
 Mrs. Little. I don't care if I do. 
 
 Minnie. It is most time for the train now, so 
 come on. This way through the kitchen. It's short- 
 est. 
 
 (She leads the way carrying her chair and tliey all 
 follow her with theirs, Arabella coming last.) 
 
 Arabella, (gathering up her sewing) "Well, I 
 may as well go, too. I don't want to miss nothin' if 
 I am busy. 
 
 Minnie, (from the kitchen) Hurry up. I hear 
 the train whistlin'. 
 
 (As Arabella goes out she very carefully closes the 
 door after her and as soon as the commotion in 
 the kitchen ceases and the " meetin' " is well on 
 its way to the orchard, the door leading to the 
 porch slowly opens and a prettily dressed young 
 woman peeps in and then enters.) 
 
 Carolyn. Hurry up, girls. Come on in. (ad- 
 vancing into the room) Xo one seems to be at home 
 either. 
 
 (Enter Grace, Ruth, and Myrtle.) 
 
 Grace. It is a real live deserted village, isn't it? 
 Every house closed but this. 
 
10 MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 
 
 Ruth. I am glad they didn't lock us out entirely. 
 I am so hungry, and maybe if we look around we 
 can find something to eat. (she begins a tour of in- 
 spection.) 
 
 Myrtle. It doesn't look promising. 
 
 Carolyn". No, it is the most starved-looking place 
 I ever saw. There isn't even a chair k) sit on. 
 
 Ruth, (at the cupboard) Oh, here is a ginger- 
 cake ! And pickles ! 
 
 Grace. Oh, goodie ! 
 
 Myrtle. Anything else? 
 
 Carolyn. Bring them over to the table and we 
 will eat them right up. 
 
 Myrtle, (at the kitchen door) Oh, here is the 
 kitchen. Wait until yen see what I can find out 
 here, (exit) 
 
 Carolyn, (at the cupboard) Here is a jar of 
 jam. Oh, girl-, we are going to have a feast! 
 
 Grace, (carrying a pile of plates from the cup- 
 board to the tabic) And here are some plates to 
 eat it from. 
 
 Myrtle, (coining in from the kitchen with a 
 pan of milk) See what I have found. 
 
 Grace. Oo-o-o-o ! Doesn't that look good ! 
 
 Carolyn. Um-m-m-m, I am so thirsty. 
 
 Ruth. I feel like a pussy cat. I want to put my 
 nose right into the pan. 
 
 Myrtle. Oo-oo-oo, don't say another word or you 
 will make me laugh and spill it. (setting it on the 
 table) There! 
 
 Grace, (bringing them from the pantry) Here 
 are some cups to drink it from and now let us begin. 
 (she dips out the milk and passes it around) 
 
 Carolyn. I can't find any silver so we will have 
 to use our fingers for the rest, (putting her hand 
 into the jar) Here Grace, have a pickle. 
 
 Myrtle, (breaking off a piece of ginger-bread) 
 
MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 11 
 
 Just make yourselves at home and help yourselves to 
 ginger-bread. (the girls all help themselves and 
 begin to eat.) 
 
 Euth. My ! hut this is good ! 
 
 Grace. They're the best pickles I ever tasted. 
 
 Carolyn. And isn't the ginger-bread simply 
 magnificent ! 
 
 Euth. Mm-mm-m-m. I'm so glad I came. 
 
 Myrtle. So am I, but I wish I had something to 
 sit on. I guess I'll perch on the machine. 
 
 Carolyn. By-the-way, where do you suppose we 
 are? 
 
 Euth. The last siem post I saw said: TEX 
 MILES TO PLYMPTOrJ. But we rode for some 
 time after that before our motor broke down. 
 
 Grace. And we have walked about fifteen miles 
 since then. 
 
 Carolyn. I simply must get to Plympton to-night 
 if I have to fly there. 
 
 Myrtle. And are you going to leave your auto- 
 mobile cut there in the road all night? 
 
 Carolyn. Why not ? I am not afraid anyone will 
 steal it. It is too heavy to carry and I have proved 
 to you all that it won't run. 
 
 (They all laugh.) 
 
 Myetle. (glancing about at the pictures) What 
 a collection of art treasures ! Look. Lid you ever 
 see anything like it? This alone is worth a day's 
 journey to see. (jumping a own from the machine 
 and approaching one , ' -ires with appropriate 
 
 jesture) Behold the lady who makes this 
 
 glorious soap ! And i igh the tedious process 
 
 she never got a spot of grease on her gown, soiled her 
 perfect hands or ruined her beautiful hair. Only five 
 cents a cake. Sold at every reputable grocery store. 
 
12 MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 
 
 (coining bach to the machine) I am too hungry to 
 tell you the rest just now. 
 
 Grace. I wish there were fewer pictures and some 
 chairs. The people who live here must all have 
 wooden legs or they couldn't stand up all of the time. 
 I am going to sit on the floor, (sitting and placing 
 her cvp of milk on the floor beside her) Oh, girls, 
 this is groat ! Why didn't we think of it before ! 
 Combination chair and table. 
 
 Ruth, (squatting beside her) This is sort of 
 comfy. 
 
 Myrtle. I am satisfied here. 
 
 Carolyn, (sitting on the edge of the table) 
 This suits me. Say, girls, isn't this good ginger-cake ! 
 
 All. Umm-mm-m-m! 
 
 Grace. But I am getting to have a dreadfully 
 lost sort of feeling. Where do you suppose we are? 
 
 Carolyn. It is lonely here. 
 
 Ruth. And suppose the wooden-legged people 
 come home and — and 
 
 Myrtle, (getting down from the machine) Oh, 
 stop. You make me feel spool-y. 
 
 Grace, (getting up from the floor) Let's go. 
 Come on, I am getting scared. 
 
 Carolyn. Shs-sh-sh. I hear a noise in the 
 kitchen. 
 
 (They all scamper to the outer door and Arabella 
 followed by the others, appears at the door.) 
 
 Arabella. Well, I never! (advancing toward the 
 table) My fresh ginger-bread ! My best pickles and 
 the jar of jam I have been saving for the last six 
 months. And the cream all gone off this morning's 
 milk, and two of my best cups on the floor. I'll 
 never get that mortgage paid off. 
 
 Grace. I am so sorry. 
 
MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 13 
 
 Euth. We were all so hungry- 
 
 Myrtle. And it looked so good we just couldn't 
 help it. 
 
 Carolyn, (stepping forward) And I think I ate 
 most of it. 
 
 Arabella. I guess you all had pretty good appe- 
 tites. 
 
 (A rap at the door.) 
 
 Arabella. I „ . , 
 r Come in! 
 Minnie. 
 
 (The door opens and the orphan, dressed in black 
 and with a big bundle in her arms, enters.) 
 
 The Orphan. Please, m-a'am 
 
 Minnie, (interrupting) Well, it's time you got 
 here. We've been waitin' for you for the last half 
 hour. You are the slowest walker I ever seen. 
 
 The Orphan. Please m'am, I was to say 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. Don't stand there half outside 
 the door and try to talk. Come right into the room. 
 (having brought her chair back with her she now sits 
 down and Mrs. Little, Lizzie and Susie do the 
 same) You don't look much like your mother, I 
 must say. 
 
 The Orphan. But, ma'am 
 
 Mrs. Little. Well, I don't know. Lena always 
 was sort of skinny. 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. (to The Orphan) Turn around 
 and let us see if you are as queer looking from all 
 sides as you are from this. 
 
 Minnie, (as the girl slowly revolves) Lena 
 surely didn't send us no parlor ornament, (finger- 
 
14 MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 
 
 ing her dress) They made your clothes out of mighty 
 poor stuff, too. 
 
 Ruth, (aside to Grace) They'll be doing that 
 to us in a minute. Let us go while we have the 
 chance, (she tries to slip out of the door) 
 
 Arabella. Come back here. I have a few ques- 
 tions to ask you about pickles and ginger-bread. 
 
 (Ruth meekly obeys.) 
 
 Lizzie, (to The Orphan) What can you do, 
 can you cook? 
 
 The Orphan. Nope. But, ma'am 
 
 Mrs. Little. Did your ma teach you to sew? 
 
 The Orphan. Nope. But, ma'am 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. Can you scrub ? Now no nopes 
 and but ma'ms to me. Just answer my questions. 
 
 The Orphan. N-n-no, ma'am. But, ma'am 
 
 Minnie. My sakes alive ! she can't do nothin' ! 
 Brought up like a lady and looks like a scarecrow ! 
 
 Lizzie. She is too much like a scarecrow for me 
 to have around. 
 
 Mrs. Little. Me, either. 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. As I told you before it is simply 
 out of the question for me to take her. 
 
 Minnie. And as I told you before — I won't. 
 
 Arabella. But what are you goin' to do with 
 her? You can't turn her out in the fields to graze. 
 
 Minnie. I don't know, but I can't take her. 
 
 Lizzie. Nor I. 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. Nor I. 
 
 Mrs. Little. Nor I. 
 
 Susie. Nor I. 
 
 Minnie. It is the cheekiest thing I ever heard of, 
 turning her loose on us like this. 
 
 Arabella. We might take turn about 
 
 All. No, indeed, I guess not. 
 
MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 15 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. We might send her to the West- 
 ville Orphanage. 
 
 Arabella, (slowly) W-well, I don't know what 
 will ever become of that mortgage, but I can't see 
 Lena's girl come to that, so I guess I'll have to take 
 her. (kindly) Jest set down your bundle, child, 
 and try to make believe you'r glad you've come to 
 Plympton. 
 
 Carolyn. Plympton! Is this Plympton? 
 
 Arabella, (starting) Oh, I forgot about you. 
 Yes, of course it's Plympton. Where else would it 
 be? 
 
 Carolyx. And who is this child? Would you 
 mind explaining? 
 
 Arabella. She is the daughter of an old friend 
 who has just died and willed her to us and I am going 
 to adopt her. I don't know how I'll ever pay off that 
 mortgage but I guess a human being is of more 
 account than a mortgage any day. 
 
 Mrs. Plymptox. (pompously) Let me explain. 
 Yesterday I received this letter (handing it and the 
 telegram to Carolyx) and at noon to-day I re- 
 ceived the telegram, and just now, as } r ou have seen, 
 the girl arrived. 
 
 Carolyx. (glancing up from the letter and point- 
 ing to the orphan) So you think that is Carolyn 
 Coulson ? 
 
 j.Iixxie. Who else could it be ? 
 
 Carolyx. I am sure I don't know, but I am Lena 
 Simpson Coulson's daughter and my mother is not- 
 dead but has just gone on a trip to Europe for the 
 summer. In her hasty note she forgot to mention it 
 — that is just like dear little mother. And I did 
 not come on the four-forty train this afternoon be- 
 cause it was such a beautiful day I thought it would 
 be nice to motor out. And it was — but our car broke 
 down (with a vague jesture) somewhere out there. 
 
16 MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. (rising to the occasion) Why, 
 Miss Coulson, I am so glad to know you. I hope 
 you will come right home with me and make me a 
 good long visit. 
 
 Carolyn, (stiffly) Thank you. 
 
 Minnie. I would be proud to have you come to 
 see me, Miss Coulson. My spare room is all ready 
 for company. 
 
 Mrs. Little. Mine too, and I live nearer than 
 Minnie does. 
 
 Lizzie. Do come and see me. 
 
 Susie. W-well, I don't know, but maybe you 
 would like to come to my house. 
 
 Carolyn. Oh, thank you all very much, but you 
 see I have my friends with me and 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. (grandly) I have plenty of 
 room for you all. 
 
 Carolyn. I thank you again but I have chosen 
 my guardian and think I should stay with her. 
 (laying her hand on Arabella's shoulder) If you 
 will let me board with you this summer I wouldn't be 
 surprised if we could just about pay off that mort- 
 gage. 
 
 Arabella. What, you! Me! The mortgage! 
 And I was so mad at you for eatin' up my ginger- 
 bread. 
 
 Minnie. But who are you then since you ain't 
 Miss Coulson? 
 
 The Orphan, (with an air of great relief) But, 
 ma'am, please, ma'am, I'm Maggie McCabe. And I 
 was to say, ma'am, that the asylum is so chock full 
 could I please come to-day, ma'am, instead of to-mor- 
 row. And 
 
 Arabella. I guess you please could since you 
 are here. 
 
 Mrs. Plympton. Then you are my orphan, the 
 one I ordered. 
 
MRS. COULSON'S DAUGHTER 17 
 
 Arabella. No, she ain't. She's mine now. I've 
 adopted her and after all that fuss I am going to keep 
 her. 
 
 Myrtle. (stepping forward with Grace and 
 Ruth) And if you would adopt us until Carolyn 
 gets her car fixed we would be very much obliged to 
 
 you. 
 
 Carolyn. If you wait for that, girls, I believe 
 you are here for a very long and happy summer. 
 
 The Orphan. And please, m'am, I was to say, if 
 you want any more orphans you can have 'em. 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
AUG 31 1912 
 
 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 017 199 305 2