tom-o-ping was a little pueblo Indian boy and one day his father said to him, "tom-o-ping take my big black burro over to the caÑon to feed." tom-o-ping didn't say, "wait a minute" to his father, but jumped right on his burro.

As he was going through the pueblo, he met his three companions, a-go-ya, to-a and bo-ping. tom-o-ping did not like to go alone, so he asked two of his little friends to jump on behind him while the third ran along as best he could, and they would all get their own burros and have a race. The boys did not have to be asked twice, so they jumped on behind tom-o-ping and then, as they were anxious to get to racing, they all tried to hurry the poor old burro along by kicking him in the ribs while bo-ping's dog barked at his heels. Mr. Burro was tired and wouldn't endure that long: so in a moment he was standing on his fore-legs and the three boys were turning somersaults over his head, while the dog was kicked high in the air. The boys jumped upon his back again and this time were more patient, so they finally reached the caÑon where the donkeys were feeding in safety.

The three waited for their friend to come and then each boy caught his own little animal, and as to-a was the eldest boy he gave the signal to start. one! two!! three!!! and off they went over fields and prairie, down the old trail and through the sage brush, shouting and laughing and urging their little steeds along. First bo-ping was a little ahead, and then he was glad, for he had been telling how well his little donkey could go. Then the others whipped their small animals a little harder for none wanted to be beaten. How they did go! You never saw four little donkeys go faster. At last the race came to an end, and the little children, who had gathered to see the finish, clapped their hands and laughed as to-a, who was a favorite with them all, came in just a little ahead of his companions.