fowler

Fowler reportedly agonized for days about whether to post and release the comments.

Our soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowler: the snare is broken, and we are escaped.

It was the same man who had too late realized that his antagonist was not Fowler.

"That seems to me like a very mild statement, but I suppose they considered it epoch-making," remarked Fowler.

Again were delayed by the rambling of the horses until nearly noon, when we travelled along the road towards Fowler's Bay.

"It won't do," said Mr. Fowler, lightly touching the recumbent Saul with his foot.