The Celtic legend already alluded to comes from Alderley Edge. It is a version of _Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table_. A farmer going through Alderley Edge, on his way to the fair to sell a beautiful white mare, was accosted by a venerable old man dressed as a monk, who said: “Sell as thou wilt that steed of thine ’Tis fated that the steed be mine.” The farmer found no purchaser, and, returning at night, met the monk by two enormous iron gates, through which they entered into a huge cavern where numbers of milk-white steeds were stalled, and by each lay an armed warrior asleep. The wizard paid the farmer, who asked the meaning of the mysterious troopers, and was told that they would, when England “Was thrice lost and thrice won ’Twixt dawn of day and setting sun,” come to her aid. When the wizard ceased, the farmer found himself alone on the hill, and the gates closed behind him. A dragon legend is connected with Thomas Venables, son of Sir Gilbert Venables, cousin-german to William the Conqueror:-- “It chaunced a terrible dragon to remayne and make his abode in the lordeshippe of Moston in the Countye of Chester, wheare he devoured all such persons as he laid hold on, which ye said Thomas Venables herringe tell of ... dyd in his awne person valiantly set on the saide dragon, where first he shotte hym throwe with an arrowe, and afterward with other weapons manfullie slew him, at which instant the dragon was devouringe of a childe.” A greater fund of legendary lore is found with regard to the lakes or meres of Cheshire:-- BRERETON--BAG OR BLACK MERE. “Here is one exceeding strange, but attested in my hearing by many persons, and commonly believed. Before any heir of this (Brereton) family dies, there are seen in a lake adjoining, the bodies of trees swimming upon the water for several days together.”--Camden. Sir Philip Sidney, in _Seven Wonders of England_, says:-- “The Breretons have a lake, which, when the sun Approaching warms (not else) dead logs up sends From hideous depth, which tribute when it ends Sure sign it is the Lord’s last thread is spun.” CAPESTHORN--RUDESMERE, OR REEDSMERE. In the grounds of Capesthorne is a fine sheet of water called Reedsmere, containing a floating island about 1½ acres in size, which in strong winds is blown here and there. A country legend accounts for this floating island by a story that a certain knight was jealous of his lady-love, and vowed not to look upon her face until the island moved on the face of the mere. But he fell sick, and was nigh to death, when he was nursed back to health by the lady, to reward whose constancy a tremendous hurricane tore the island up by the roots. ROSTHERNE MERE.