to
Bohemian revels at night was more than he could understand.

"Don't wobble, confound you!" snorted Mr. Wheeler.

"Yes, but, my dear old artist," said Archie, "what you don't seem to
grasp--what you appear not to realise--is that I'm getting a crick in
the back."

"You weakling! You miserable, invertebrate worm. Move an inch and
I'll murder you, and come and dance on your grave every Wednesday and
Saturday. I'm just getting it."

"It's in the spine that it seems to catch me principally."

"Be a man, you faint-hearted string-bean!" urged J. B. Wheeler. "You
ought to be ashamed of yourself. Why, a girl who was posing for me last
week stood for a solid hour on one leg, holding a tennis racket over her
head and smiling brightly withal."

"The female of the species is more india-rubbery than the male," argued
Archie.

"Well, I'll be through in a few minutes. Don't weaken. Think how proud
you'll be when you see yourself on all the bookstalls."

Archie sighed, and braced himself to the task once more. He wished he
had never taken on this binge. In addition to his physical discomfort,
he was feeling a most awful chump. The cover on which Mr. Wheeler was
engaged was for the August number of the magazine, and it had been
necessary for Archie to drape his reluctant form in a two-piece bathing
suit of a vivid lemon colour; for he was supposed to be representing one
of those jolly dogs belonging to the best families who dive off floats
at exclusive seashore resorts. J. B. Wheeler, a stickler for accuracy,
had wanted him to remove his socks and shoes; but there Archie had stood
firm. He was willing to make an ass of himself, but not a silly ass.

"All right," said J. B. Wheeler, laying down his brush. "That will do
for to-day. Though, speaking without prejudice and with no wish to be
offensive, if I had had a model who wasn't a weak-kneed, jelly-backboned
son of Belial, I could have got the darned thing finished without having
to have another sitting."

"I wonder why you chappies call this sort of thing 'sitting,'" said
Archie, pensively, as he conducted tentative experiments in osteopathy
on his aching back. "I say, old thing, I could do with a restorative, if
you have one handy. But, of course, you haven't, I suppose," he added,
resignedly. Abstemious as a rule, there were moments when Archie found
the Eighteenth Amendment somewhat trying.

J. B. Wheeler shook his head.

"You're a little previous," he said. "But c