While visiting a friend, he took me to see the sights of the place, and quite naturally we strolled through the churchyard.
There were lots of old-timers buried there, and some of the inscriptions quite interested me.
Presently we came to a new tombstone.
I noticed that above the inscription there had been cut a single hand, with the index finger pointing upward.
It seemed appropriate enough to me, and I was astonished when my friend, after bending down to read, actually laughed.
"Well, I declare," he said, presently, "if that isn't just like old Stein. He never did order more than one beer at a time!"
To the very last he was attached to his bier.
I remember it was in this same cemetery I ran across a funny old darky who seemed to be examining several traps which he had set.