Bearskin was delighted with this proposal and went home with him.
At the first sight of his face, the eldest daughter was so horrified, that she screamed and rushed from the room. The second daughter did not indeed run away, but she looked at him from head to foot, then she spoke and said, "How can I marry a man who has no longer even the semblance of a human being? I would rather have the shaven bear that was on show here once, and gave himself out for a man; he had at least a good soldier's coat and a pair of white gloves. If it were only a matter of ugliness, I might grow accustomed to him." Then the youngest rose and said, "Dear father, the man who has helped you out of your trouble must be a good man, and if you have promised one of us to him as a wife, your word must not be broken." It was a pity that Bearskin's face was just then so covered with dirt and hair, or those present might have seen how the heart within him laughed for joy when he heard those words. He took a ring from his finger, broke it in two, and gave one half to the girl, and kept the other himself. Then he wrote her name in his half, and his own name in hers, begging her at the same time to keep it safely. After this he took his leave. "I must continue my travels for three more years," he said to his betrothed; "if at the end of that time I do not return, you may know that I am dead and that you are free; but pray to God for me that my life may be spared."
The poor young girl clad herself all in black, and whenever she thought of her betrothed husband, her eyes filled with tears. Her sisters treated her to nothing but scorn and derision. "Take care how you offer him your hand," the eldest would say, "for he will give you a blow with his paw." "You must be careful," said the
