As the bus slowed down at the crowded bus stop, the Pakistani bus conductor leaned from the platform and called out, "Six only!" The bus stopped. He counted on six passengers, rang the bell, and then, as the bus moved off, called to those left behind: "So sorry, plenty of room in my heart - but the bus is full." He left behind a row of smiling faces. It's not what you do, it's the way that you do it.
__The Friendship Book of Francis Gay, 1977
Broom out the floor now, lay the fender by; And plant this bee-sucked bough of woodbine there; And let the window down. The butterfly; Floats in upon the sunbeam, and the fair; Tanned face of June, the nomad gipsy, laughs; Above her widespread wares, the while she tells; The farmers' fortunes in the fields, and quaffs; The water from the spider-peopled wells;