the following stories of fascination by snakes, is copied from "arthur's home gazette." it is no fiction; but is contributed by a gentleman of tennessee, who is willing to vouch for the truth of what he relates.

it has been a thousand times affirmed, and as often denied, that certain serpents possess the power—independent of the touch—of paralyzing their proposed victims. and it seems to be generally admitted that this is done, if done at all, by the eye; for those theorists who ascribe it to poison inhaled through the nostrils of the charmed ones, offer us no example to confirm their theory, or to make it worthy of a second thought. in extended rambles, alone as well as with society, i have made the study of serpents a matter of amusement, and familiarized myself—at least i had done so ten years back—to handle them without any flesh-shrinking. as i got older, and my nerves become weakened by long exposure to the seasons and to midnight studies, more debilitating than texas "northers," i must confess that i am more timid; but i can yet join a hunt, or project one in good "snake weather," with considerable gusto. i have never met with a snake that could charm me, look he never so keenly, although i have faced them till they got tired, uncoiled, and beat an inglorious retreat. and i am sure that i never smell anything about a snake, calculated to excite any other emotions or motions except holding the nose. and finally i never found a snake or snakelet that i would turn my heel upon to flee, and for the very good reason that the animal in question always runs first.

so, ye manufacturers of snake stories horrific, amusive, or instructive, put that against your tales of blacksnakes, copperheads, cotton-mouths, horn-tails, water-mocassins, and the whole tribe else.

but as to the fascination, what of that?

why, although i have never been fascinated, or seen a person in that singular situation, yet i am a firm believer in the art, a believer against my wishes—because evidence indisputable has been furnished me, and in abundance. now i leave out of the question, all the influences of fright, surprise, etc., also all the humbug stories of novel writers and romancers in private life, and yet there is a remainder that i cannot cast out. one or two anecdotes, and then i come to my principal proof.

a gentleman of my acquaintance, passing along a bridle path, observed a mouse running backwards and forwards, upon a fallen log, as if in great terror. reining in this horse, he paused full ten minutes, and until the mouse disappeared on the farther side of the log. drawing nearer, and peeping over, his suspicions of lucifer's guile were verified—for mousey was within three inches of his open jaw, "irresistibly attracted," said the narrator, "although he was drawing back with all his might." the latter part of the tale is fishy—for the gentleman was twenty feet off, and could not nave seen that—but he saw the mouse finally disappear in that cavernous gullet; and when he killed the snake-a large black one—the mouse lay in its stomach, without a wound. how will that do?

another, well authenticated. a young man, of some twenty years, passing along the road to school, on foot, was observed by some of his companions in the rear to pause suddenly and look down. his fellows intent on their conversation, were several minutes coming up; but when they did so they witnessed a veritable case of fascination—for the young man was looking intently into the eyes of a large rattlesnake, coiled at his feet; nor could the voices of all his friends arouse him. being jerked back with some violence, he instantly recovered his senses, but seemed to be puzzled to recall the circumstances connected with his first view of the snake. after a mental effort he explained, while the cold sweat poured from his face, and his limbs were flaccid as an infant's, that the sound of a rattle had caused him to stop short—that a pleasant halo danced before his eyes, and sweet sounds met his ears—and that from that instant until the conclusion of the trance, "he was as happy as he ever expected to be!"

but now for the hardest knock of conviction. i will give it in the language of the original narrator—premising that opponents to the theory of serpent attraction must knock under, or flatly contradict my tale. in the latter event, i shall be compelled to settle the question as hodginson did his lawsuit, "by exhibiting the skin and parading the witnesses."

"in the month of april, a few years back," commences the witness, "i took my eldest chap, an eight year old boy, but stout and bold enough for a twelve year old—and sauntered down to beech river, to spend the evening [footnote: evening, in this place, signifies from noon until dark; that's the southern and western notion always.] fishing. finding a large beech, whose spreading roots formed a natural easy chair, with arms to it, i threw my line into the stream, and myself into the cavity, to take the thing deliberately as i generally do on such occasions. there had been a rise in beech river sufficient to muddy the water, and i knew the only chance was for cat (bull-pouts the yankees call them,) so i chose a big hook and baited with a chunk of bacon, big enough for an eight-pounder at least. that hook was a limerick, for which i had sent all the way to porter, of 'the spirit'—that hook i was never more to behold.

"the boy chose for himself a steep place about ten yards below me, and after sticking his pole in the mud, like a lazy fellow, as he is, amused himself by counting the stamens in some sorrel-flowers that grew thick thereabouts. i listened to his chatter for a while as he vacillated in his numbers—eight—nine—ten—twelve—until my own thoughts took an interesting turn, and i heard to more of him for several minutes. then the sound of his voice again struck one, but a little distance further down stream, as he tailed out—'oh, pa, look!'

"being well accustomed to his 'mares' nests,' i did not turn until he had repeated several times the same words, and it was the singularity of his tones at last that caused me to do it. his voice was indescribably plaintive, clear, but low, and each vowel sound was drawn out at great length, thus—'oh-h-h-h, pa-a-a-a, loo-oo-oo-ook,'—with the diminuendo, soft as the ring of a glass vessel, when struck. i have heard kyle, the flutist, while executing some of his thrilling touches, strike his low notes very much like it. slewing myself partly round in my seat, i observed the little fellow standing bent forward, his hands stretched out before him as if shielding his face from a bush, while his whole body worked to and fro like the subjects in certain mesmeric experiments that i nave observed when first they are brought under 'the influence' of the operator. his face was partly turned from me, but the cheek, which i saw was pale as death, and his cloth cap was trembling on the back part of his head, as if forced there by the workings of the scalp.

"this was as much as i had time to observe in the first hasty glance. astonished at his actions, though not at all alarmed—or the first thought that occurred to me as that he was trying to catch a young rabbit—i called out in a half-jocular tone, well, bubby boy, what is it?' he made no reply, but continued that strange murmur of '—oh-h-h, pa-a-a, loo-oo-ook,' and took a couple of paces forward, not as though he wished to advance, but more in the style of a person who has leaned too far forward and moves his feet to recover the perpendicular. i arose, rather slowly, for it was a mere prompting of curiosity, and walking towards him, called out in a tone of some authority, 'john, come here!' now i can say, without boasting, that my domestic government is thorough, and my children will promptly obey my commands in every thing, from the taking of a dose of quinine to the springing out of bed at daylight of a frosty morning. my surprise, therefore, was great to observe that the lad only answered my order, twice repeated, by the same melancholy cry, and another stumble forward.

"i was now thoroughly aroused. i hastened my own steps, for a horror came over me as though i was in the presence of a demon. i advanced directly behind the child, and looking over him, observed a thick bush of the early honeysuckle, (azalea nudiflora.) into and through this i glanced, but i observed no object to excite my notice. i had got within a pace of him, and was in the act of putting my hand with some force upon his shoulder, when following more precisely the direction of his eyes, i looked at the foot of the bush, then about six feet from me, and how shall i describe the sequel!

"like an electric shock, a sensation pervaded my whole frame, which, although i can never forget, i must most imperfectly describe. i was in a trance—the blood overcharged my brain—a murmuring sound, as of an aeolian, filled my ears-drops, like rain, oozed from my face—my hat, first elevated to the very tips of the hairs, worked backwards and fell to the ground—in brief, i was regularly, and for the first and last time in my life, in a state of fascination.

"no sensation of languor troubled me, for although i felt no inclination to go forward, yet i seemed to myself perfectly able and willing to stay where i was, so long as the world lasted. i was perfectly happy in spite of my bodily excitement. a bright halo of changeable colors, for all the world like the changeable lights i have seen displayed in front of the american museum, new york, filled all my vision, in the very focus of which gleamed two keen points, like sparks from the blacksmith's anvil, and they were so vivid that they seemed to pierce me through and through.

"how long this continued i cannot say, but i suppose only for a minute. so far as my own perception of time's flight is concerned, however, it might have been an age.

"i was awakened by the harsh crackling of some dry sticks upon which the boy had stepped as he continued to shuffle forward. the recovery was as sudden as the attack. in an instant i was disenchanted. the bush looked familiar, and i heard the fall of water in the stream, but a thought of imminent danger now possessed my mind; so shouting with a voice that made the woods ring, i seized the lad around the waist, and heavy as he was, ran with him quite a quarter of a mile without stopping. i confess it most frankly that i didn't stop until i fell exhausted in the public road. to tell the cowardly truth, i should have ran on until now if i had been able. so we fell down together and lay for a good while panting.

"then i got up and propping myself against a poplar, took little john on my knee. his nervous system was unstrung. he was weeping bitterly, and sobbing as if his heart would break. his flesh was cold and clammy, his pulse was almost still, and he hadn't strength to raise his hands to his mouth.

"i had some root ginger in my pocket—i always carry a piece with me—which i chewed and made him swallow. this revived him. then i rubbed him briskly, pinched his skin in divers tender spots, and by these means and cheerful conversation, got him so that he could stand alone and answer my questions. i never saw such a fool thing as he was! he was not at all alarmed, very willingly consented to return with me—for i'd die but what i'd see it but—thought there ought to be a perch on his hook by this time, thought it was sunday, thought there was snow somewhere, 'twas so cold,—and all such notions as that.

"every few minutes he would burst into an uncontrollable flood of tears, but he couldn't tell for what.

"you will want to know how i felt all this time. well, when i got a minute's leisure from attending to him and could notice my own feelings, i found that i was snivelling too! that my pulse was small, my nose had been profusely bleeding, and the blood had drenched me to the very boot tops, and i felt altogether as exhausted as one does who has had a month's spell of the chills.

"we were a precious pair, daddy and son, as we sat under that poplar. i am sure i never felt so foolish in all my life. well, back we started, for my spunk was up; and, beside that, i had left my hat, handkerchief, dinner, and memorandum book, and was bound to have them. i felt the most burning curiosity to understand the puzzle while my mental faculties were completely obfuscated by it.

"neither of us said a word of the affair itself, for john didn't seem to know that he had been frightened, and i was afraid to alarm him by speaking of it. he asked no questions of any sort, although in general he is a miniature paul pry, expressed no surprise that i was bareheaded and bloody, or that we had come so far from the fishing place and left our tackle behind. his face expressed confusion, such as a child will exhibit when he is waked suddenly by falling out of bed, and commences grasping around the bedpost preparatory to getting in again. i knew that something frightful was there, and felt that we had escaped some great peril, but what the object or what the peril i had no idea whatever. i am sure, however, that the notion of a snake never entered my mind, but if any thing tangible, if was of a wild cat, for the recollection of cooper's panther story in the pioneers occurred to me, and i cut a stout hickory sapling to be prepared. we arrived with slow steps at the haunted spot, for both were exhausted, and i felt the value of prudence. there lay my basket by the beech root, more by token that the hogs had found it and were just devouring the last morsel of bread and meat so carefully deposited therein.

"there was my fishing line, but the eight-pounder had become weary and worn, and carried off my limerick hook. there was my hat near the honeysuckle bush, but the phantom itself, with its diamond eyes and mystic powers, was gone. frightened probably by the hogs, unromantic objects in every point of view, he had fled; but i found him within fifty yards in the form of a rattlesnake, full six feet from tip to tip, and glorying in fourteen full rattles.

"i had my revenge in every possible form. i looked at him for ten minutes at a time, but the power was gone, and i only saw two keen, devilish-looking eyes. then i punched him till he spent all his venom on my stick. then i made him drunk on tobacco juice, ingloriously and brutally drunk.

"getting tired at last, i gave him the coup de grâce, skinned him, and returned home. he hangs now in loops over my family bed. those eyes that thrilled my heart so strangely are dim with dust. those fangs, which in a few minutes more would probably have sent death to the heart's fountain of my boy, are now in europe, a part of the collection admired by countless crowds at the british museum. the subject is fast fading from my memory,'mid the cares of life, and had you not asked me to write it out for you, i should have thought of it but a little longer. let it stand as another testimony, and a most unwilling one, too, of the fascinating powers of serpents on the human."

so far my correspondent tells his own tale in language sufficiently plain and explicit. if any figure him out as a man of feeble frame and low stature, let them change their fancy at once.

he is a strong, muscular man, an old bear hunter, one who has fought indians in the florida swamps; a person withal, of unquestionable veracity, and in all respects the last man to impose on others, or be imposed upon by anything, fish, flesh, or fowl.