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Updated: June 10, 2025
Martha was old Malachi's daughter. We hadn't known it, but she had been in school all that year. She was a quiet girl who was designed like a tall problem in plane geometry. While it was possible for a clock to run in the same room with her, still she was not what you might call a picnic to look at.
Malachi's opinion was as follows: "I think we had, at all events, better wait till to-morrow, sir. You see, the women will not be at all surprised at the hunting party not returning for even a day or two, as they know that they will not return without game, and may not find it immediately; their absence, therefore, will create no suspicion of our being here.
Within the hour, the two boxes with their contents were locked up in bureau-drawer in his own house awaiting their immediate shipment to New York. The next morning Malachi's wizened face was thrust inside Oliver's bedroom door. He was shaking with terror, his eyes almost starting from his head. "Marse Ollie, Marse Ollie, git up quick as you kin! De Yankees is come; de town is black wid 'em!"
Thackeray, had helped to mollify Malachi's righteous wrath over the immortal novelist's ignorance of Southern dishes: "Dat fat gemman wid de gold specs dat dey do say is so mighty great, ain't eat nuffin yet but soup an' a li'l mite o' 'tater," he said to Aunt Hannah on one of his trips to the kitchen as dinner went on. "He let dat tar'pin an' dem ducks go by him same as dey was pizen.
"'How is it, my son, said he, at length; 'they tell very strange stories about Father Malachi, and I see so many of these children with red hair. Eh now Father Malachi's a dark man. "'True for ye, said the boy; 'true for ye, Father Malachi's dark; but the coadjutor! the coadjutor's as red as a fox."
Now, in Malachi's eye I can see at any hour all that there is of the normal decent dog, flecked here and there with that strained half-soul which man's love and association have added to his nature. But with Harvey the eye was perplexed, as a tortured man's. Only by looking far into its deeps could one make out the spirit of the proper animal, beclouded and cowering beneath some unfair burden.
Spent the morning and till dinner on Malachi's second epistle to the Athenians. It is difficult to steer betwixt the natural impulse of one's national feelings setting in one direction, and the prudent regard to the interests of the empire and its internal peace and quiet, recommending less vehement expression. I will endeavour to keep sight of both.
Then our Lord closes His words concerning John with the distinct statement, which He expects His hearers to have difficulty in receiving, probably from the contradiction to it which John's present condition seemed to give, that in him was fulfilled Malachi's prophecy of the sending of 'Elijah the prophet before ... day of the Lord. The fiery Tishbite, gaunt and grim, ascetic and solitary, who bearded Ahab, and flamed across a corrupt age with a stern message of repentance or destruction, was repeated in the lonely ascetic who had his Ahab in Herod, and his Jezebel in Herodias, and like his prototype, knew no fear, but flashed out the lightnings of his words on every sin.
He panted, and beads stood out on his forehead as though he felt every effort of his straining horse. Malachi's face was white but expressionless. Life had never promised him much, and for him the bitterness of death was easily passed.
"Can't hab dese yere young ladies spile dere clean frocks on Malachi's steps no, sah," he would say; "Marse Oliver'd r'ar an' pitch tur'ble." There were especial reasons this year for these extra touches of rag and brush. Malachi knew "de signs" too well to be deceived.
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