The house which the missionaries had built for them was a constant wonder to the Indians. It was thirty-six feet long and twenty wide, and looked from the outside like any Huron bark house. But within, the “black-robes” had made innovations which were the marvel of all their visitors. They divided the house into three apartments, separated by wooden doors such as the natives had never seen. The first room served as antechamber and storm door to keep out the cold. The second was that in which they lived. It was at once kitchen, carpenter shop, place for grinding wheat, dining room, parlor, and bedroom. Beneath high wooden platforms, on which they placed their chests of goods, the missionaries slept on sheets of bark or beds of boughs covered with rush mats, with skins and their clothing for covering. The third part was their little chapel where they set up their altar, pictures, and sacred vessels, and celebrated mass every day. The house itself attracted scores of visitors, but when the clock and the mill were set going the astonishment of the Indians knew no bounds. No guest came who did not beg to be allowed to turn the mill, and as for the clock, they sat in expectant silence by the hour, waiting for it to strike. They all thought it some living thing, and when it began to strike they would look about to make sure that all the “black-robes” were there and that no one was hidden to shake it. They named it “Captain of the Day,” and inquired for it as they would for a person, wishing to know what its food was and how many times it had spoken that day. The first time they heard it they asked what it said, and the clever Jesuits told them two things. “When he strikes twelve times, he says, ‘Come, put on the kettle.’” This speech they remembered particularly well, for their own scanty meals were usually in the morning and evening, and they were very glad during the day to take a share of the Fathers’ repast. “But when he strikes four times, he says, ‘Go out, go away, that we may close the door,’” the Jesuits told their guests, and immediately they rose and went out, leaving the weary Fathers free from the constant noise and chatter.