The writer has before him, clipped from the public journals, the record
of remarkable incidents enough in Mr. McWatters' life to fill a small
volume of themselves, only a few of which can properly be alluded to in
a cursory biography. Such men's lives are often illustrated by
"hairbreadth escapes," or signal good fortune under trying
circumstances; but it is doubtful that a more singular and happily
ending affair has ever occurred in any man's experience than one, the
record of which was made at the time, in the New York Dispatch of June
20, 1858, and which is here copied in full.
"PUSILLANIMOUS HIGHWAYMEN.--TWO KNIGHTS OF THE ROAD FRIGHTENED BY A
SPECTACLE CASE.--At a few minutes to one o'clock yesterday morning, Mr.
G. S. McWatters, late door-keeper at Laura Keene's theatre, was passing
through Bleecker Street, near Mott. Suddenly two men sprang at him from
behind a tree, one catching him around the waist, and the other making
a grab at his throat. With a quick and powerful effort, turning himself
around, he managed to fling from him the one who had hold of his waist;
and quickly taking from his side coat-pocket a silver spectacle case,
he drew his hand back with great emphasis, cautioning the other fellow
not to advance a step, or he would stab him to the heart. The second
fellow evidently mistook the glistening of the spectacle case in the
moonlight as the gleaming of steel, for in double-quick time he took to
his heels, followed by his companion, whose fall, as the result proved,
had not detracted from his nimble-footedness. Mr. McWatters let the
fellows run, very prudently avoiding imposing a task upon his lungs by
calling for the police. It is thought they followed him for his money,
of which he had a considerable amount about him."
[Illustration: McWATTERS' SPECTACLE CASE.]