He sprinkled with holy water all that he encountered--and all that the miraculous liquid touched turned to stone. Never from that moment did any further evil issue from the cave at Wookey. And, to-day, if you go there, you may see, as they have been these many centuries past, the petrified witch in her kitchen, cut off suddenly by this good brother of Glastonbury in the very midst of her wickedness, with her various household utensils, also turned into stone, all about her. Anyone may enter Wookey Hole now, and emerge unharmed. Wells is your best centre for visiting Wookey. The city itself with its splendid cathedral, its ancient houses and its moated Episcopal Palace, is one of the most interesting in all England. Glastonbury is near at hand, with the remains of its great abbey from which the good monk came, and its marvellous thorn tree, as legend has it, sprung from the staff of Joseph of Arimathea, who, having wandered from the Holy Land, decided to end his days in this pleasant place. This is traditional Avalon, a town, perhaps, richer in history and romance than any other in our land. King Arthur and Guinevere his queen, they say, were buried within the walls of the ancient abbey over which, as the old tale tells, St. Patrick and St. Benedict once presided as Abbots. And, should you weary of history, there are all the natural beauties of the Mendip hills for you to explore; for both Wells and Glastonbury lie on the slopes of this beautiful range. Few places in Europe have so much of interest to offer the visitor as Wells and Glastonbury and that pleasing country all around, over which, in the dark ages, the Witch of Wookey wielded her gruesome sway. [Illustration: _Wookey Hole._] [Illustration: Lady Phyllis giving alms to the poor, including Sir Guy in pilgrim attire.] GUY, OF GUY’S CLIFF. Some people may tell you that there never was such a person as the valiant Guy, Earl of Warwick, who slew the terrible Dun Cow that terrorized middle England in the old days, and, single handed, defeated the giant Colbrond, and cut off his head. But if you go to Warwick’s beautiful castle you may see, to-day, the brave Guy’s armour, and some bones of the ferocious cow. And there is the old tale of Guy, handed down for centuries, to prove that this mighty warrior really did live. This is the old tale. After Guy had slain the Dun Cow, and had been to the Holy Land on a pilgrimage, he returned in disguise, and unrecognised, feeling that he wished to withdraw from the world and live a secluded life as a hermit. But before he did so he undertook the slaying of the giant Colbrond. Having killed this monster and cut off his head, he slipped away quietly and wandered slowly to his home at Warwick.