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.] MR. MCWATTERS ENTERS THE METROPOLITAN POLICE FORCE.