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. Let no day pass over you . . . without giving some strokes of the pencil or the crayon. Dryden.

riction of hard substances; as, shoes creak. The creaking locusts with my voice conspire. Dryden. Doors upon their hinges creaked. Tennyson.

e slightly displaced; as, the collodion on a negative, or a coat of varnish, may creep in drying; the quicksilver on a mirror may creep.

Having a crest. But laced crested helm. Dryden.

d. I am a cripple in my limbs; but what decays are in my mind, the reader must determine. Dryden.

minate; the decisive moment; the turning point. This hour's the very crisis of your fate. Dryden. The very times of crisis for the fate of the country. Brougham.

with nice discernment; accurately; exactly. Critically to discern good writers from bad. Dryden.

criticism, as it was first instituted by Aristotle, was meant a standard of judging well. Dryden.

An old woman; -- usually in contempt. But still the crone was constant to her note. Dryden.

Guiltless of steel, and from the razor free, It falls a plenteous crop reserved for thee. Dryden.

are both love's captives, but with fates so cross, One must be happy by the other's loss. Dryden.

A forked support; a crotch. The crotchets of their cot in columns rise. Dryden.

fool the crowd with glorious lies. Tennyson. He went not with the crowd to see a shrine. Dryden.

The topmost part of anything; the summit. The steepy crown of the bare mountains. Dryden.

Harsh and offensive, as a color; tawdry or in bad taste, as a combination of colors, or any design or work of art.

Hard or crusty; dry baked; as, a crump loaf. [Prov. Eng. & Scot.] Hallivell.

at or force down, as by an incumbent weight. To crush the pillars which the pile sustain. Dryden. Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again. Bryant.

r surface of bread, in distinction from the soft part or crumb; or a piece of bread grown dry or hard.

support on crutches; to prop up. [R.] Two fools that crutch their feeble sense on verse. Dryden.

walls each little mote will peep. Shak. By crystal streams that murmur through the meads. Dryden. The crystal pellets at the touch congeal, And from the ground rebounds the ratting hail. H. Brooks.