"Come down to the crick with me after tea, and I'll explain," said Will.
Mr. Moss was disentangling the crick in his back for the last time that day.
Sounds like somebody slappin' the crick with a fishin'-pole.
I disremember just how fur that last stop is from the Crick, but I think it's betwixt 25 and 30 mile.
There was a crick in his neck, but he decided he could stand ...