Some strolling showmen, being at Stonin, a town of Lithuania, belonging to Count Ogienski, grand general of that province, diverted the inhabitants by exhibiting the tricks and gambols of half a dozen monkeys they had along with them: this new spectacle roused the curiosity of people of all degrees, insomuch that the overseers of the improvements which were carrying on in that neighbourhood saw themselves deserted by all their workmen. Desirous to recall them to their duty, yet unwilling to drive the strollers away by main force, they offered the chief a round sum of money, on condition of his leaving the town immediately: the man agreed to this; and, with his two assistants, and company of four-footed comedians, set off from Stonin.

They had hardly proceeded out of town, when they were Deset by some banditti, who robbed and murdered not only them, but all their harmless followers, except one, who escaped the general slaughter, and, unperceived, climbed up a tree, whence he could spy all the proceedings of the villains, who had no sooner made sure of their spoils, than they proceeded to inter the bodies, both of the men and beasts, covering the place with earth and boughs, and then made off.

Sometime after, a coach-and-four approached; which the surviving monkey no sooner descried, than he set up a most dismal yell. The gentleman, who, as it afterwards proved, was going on a visit to the grand-general, amazed at so unusual a noise, ordered the coachman to stop, when, lighting, he was still more surprised to see the animal coming down the tree, and making towards him; the monkey, taught perhaps to reverence people of rank, began to lick his feet, and, by several gestures, seemed to intimate that he had something extraordinary to discover; the animal led the way, and the gentleman followed with his servant. As soon as they came to the place, the monkey rent the air with the most piteous accents; then taking up some of the branches, he began to scratch the earth, and throw it up With all his might: the gentleman seeing this, ordered his man to fall to work, and in a few minutes the whole scene of horror opened to his view.

Fearing a similar fate, the Lithuanian, forgetting the sagacious animal, got into his carriage, and posted to the grand-general as fast as his horses could carry him. Poor pug, rather than be left behind, fastened about the coach as well as he could, and arrived likewise at the count's, who, having heard the gentleman's report, sent a proper force after the banditti: they were overtaken, and committed to prison. The grand-general ordered the monkey to be taken into his palace, and kept with the greatest care. This surprising mark of instinct and gratitude is deemed the more wonderful, as that animal generally turns his natural sagacity to mischief and treachery.