"Yuh got me, unh." And so it goes. If you like this bundle of grunting, r'aring sox, you will doubtless enjoy her latest movie. The opus lacks the freshness of the first, partly for the reason that Miss West's favorite remarks to males have been publicized to the point of near extinction, and partly for the reason that few, if any, new ones have been added. The gags in the picture have apparently been ground out by some studio back with a memory stopping at the year 1918, and with a bad case of the jitters; the music, if you care to call it such, is not bawdy enough to do the lovable Mae justice, and there is not enough of it. The plot is jerky, patchy, and long miles from the empyrean ether of originality. In short, the production has its faults.

In spite of all this, busty-wusty West has enough push to put it over satisfactorily, if you are only seeking an afternoon's entertainment. Her walk and her accent, for those who like them, are there. Even professors of ancient Gaelic and students of the Urdu verb forms will enjoy hearing her sing "I've found a new way to go to town," and lechery, after all, is always to the point. An excellent shot, which seems to give promise that the old girl can act, is that in which Mae shows her presents to a friend; you will see what I mean when you hear her say, "It's real jade ... he said," in a tone of trusting naivete which touches the heights. On the other hand, the scenes which attempt to portray some queer form of true love, suddenly burgeoning in the largest of American bosoms, are not so rosy; perhaps they are too much out of character. At any rate, the whole picture is a series of such up and downs and contrasts; as art, it is a flop; as entertainment, it gets there, and I recommend it.