when the old man saw himself set free from all his troubles he did not know how to be grateful enough. "come with me," said he to bearskin; "my daughters are all miracles of beauty, choose one of them for thyself as a wife. when she hears what thou hast done for me, she will not refuse thee. thou dost in truth look a little strange, but she will soon put thee to rights again." this pleased bearskin well, and he went. when the eldest saw him she was so terribly alarmed at his face that she screamed and ran away. the second stood still and looked at him from head to foot, but then she said, "how can i accept a husband who no longer has a human form? the shaven bear that once was here and passed itself off for a man pleased me far better, for at any rate it wore a hussar’s dress and white gloves. if it were nothing but ugliness, i might get used to that." the youngest, however, said, "dear father, that must be a good man to have helped you out of your trouble, so if you have promised him a bride for doing it, your promise must be kept." it was a pity that bearskin’s face was covered with dirt and with hair, for if not they might have seen how delighted he was when he heard these words. he took a ring from his finger, broke it in two, and gave her one half, the other he kept for himself. he wrote his name, however, on her half, and hers on his, and begged her to keep her piece carefully, and then he took his leave and said, "i must still wander about for three years, and if i do not return then, thou art free, for i shall be dead. but pray to god to preserve my life."