Clown-face, the badger, had been routed out of his distant home-nest on the far side of the mountain by an enemy. Because he enjoyed roving, he took up the life of a tramp and made a trip to the seashore, for he dearly loved the little black mussels which he remembered having once found there. As it happened, badgers were not common in that section of the country; perhaps one of them had never happened to venture over upon that side of the mountain even, so none of the wild things had ever encountered this queer-looking fellow. Queer looking he certainly was, and the funniest thing about him was that the sly old fellow, who had often looked at himself in some still pool, knew exactly how odd he appeared to others. He had wit enough to use this knowledge for his own purposes. Once seen, the clown face of the badger was not soon forgotten by other animals. He soon discovered that when a stranger appeared suddenly on the trail whom he did not care to meet, all he had to do usually was to stand still, and stare and stare at the intruder, who invariably would back out or side-step from the trail, leaving it clear to the badger; why, I will explain. In the first place, the badger was just about as broad as he was long. His thick fur coat, which was flowing and parted in the middle of his back, nearly reaching the ground, looked for all the world as if he carried a goatskin rug across his back. His legs were short and he appeared not unlike a great, hairy caterpillar as he waddled along. But his fore feet carried two tremendously long hooked claws which, if cornered, he would use in fight, for his courage was very great. His head was broad and furry, with short ears. The strangest thing about the badger was his face, which was marked exactly like a funny clown. Although his back was grey--one may still hear the saying, "grey as a badger"--his head and neck were of short, dark brown fur, while like a dash of white paint ran a mark of snowy fur from the bridge of his nose, back to the nape of his neck. On either cheek was another dash of white, reaching from the tops of his ears to the corners of his mouth. Below this was marked out a little crescent of white, set off by a stripe of dark fur. Altogether, the badger always appeared to be wearing a kind of painted disguise. No wonder then, when he stared straight at any animal who had never seen such a funny face, that it turned and ran in an opposite direction. Such was the make-up of Clown-face, the badger. Even now he was making his way in the moonlight to new grounds, where he would be seen and feared. Clown-face was in search of a deserted burrow into which he could crawl and rest, for he was tired. He soon came to the deserted home of the woodchuck family. Into this he crept, taking care to crawl in and turn around, so as to leave his painted face right in the doorway; then he went to sleep.