"He's been kissing every one of us," murmured the girl's mother. "There
must be something the matter with him."

The girl's father caught the young man squarely by the shoulders and
faced him about.

"He kissed me at the station--before everybody!" sobbed the girl. "Then
he kissed mama and the maid and Aunt Jane."

"What is the meaning of this?" said the girl's father, sternly. "How
dare you, sir, abuse our hospitality?"

The young man shuddered. His eyes closed. Still in the clutch of his
host, there was a tragic silence. Then he opened them once more and
gazed feebly about him. He passed his hand wearily over his forehead.

"Forgive me!" he whispered. "It is not my fault. I live in bachelor
quarters in town. My friends had all gone away and there was nothing for
me to do but go to the moving picture shows night after night. I have
been doing this for weeks. In the moving pictures the young man hero
kisses everybody he meets. It's the regular thing--nothing but kissing,
kissing, all the time. My mind has been unhinged by it. Forgive me and
take me to some asylum."

Then he burst into tears, threw his arms about the old gentleman--and
kissed him, and they led the poor wretch away.


HISTORICAL