boat, loaded with our household effects, and running before a stiff
breeze to Garden River. The Indians were delighted at the change, and
all welcomed us warmly; but now fresh difficulties arose: the little
log parsonage was so cramped and small that we had nowhere to bestow
our goods, and a considerable proportion of them had to be stowed away
in the stable until two additional rooms could be built. It was rather
late in the year for building operations, the winter being just about
to commence; nevertheless we managed to secure the services of a couple
of workmen, and in a little time a "balloon frame" was run up and two
new rooms added to the house.

A terrible winter it was--one of the worst winters that had been known--
the glass being sometimes from 30 to 40 below zero, and the snow very
deep. One great snowdrift completely blocked the east end of the
parsonage--it was about fifteen feet deep. The lower room was entirely
dark, and we had to make a tunnel through the snow bank to let in the
light. Some mornings it was so cold that we could not sit to the
breakfast-table, but had all to huddle round the stove with our plates
on our laps, and the empty cups that had been used when put back on the
table froze to the saucers. Bread, butter, meat, everything, was frozen
solid, and we began to realize what an Algoma winter was. But, apart
from these discomforts, we had a very pleasant winter with our Indian
friends; the services at the church were well attended, and there were
generally upwards of thirty at the Holy Communion. At Christmas time we
had a great feast; nearly a hundred of the people came, and after
partaking of the good things, we gave them a magic lantern exhibition,
which pleased them greatly. Then we always had service in the
schoolhouse every Wednesday evening, at which there was an exceedingly
good attendance; and on Friday evenings we held a cottage lecture,
sometimes at one house, sometimes at another. Perhaps the most