THE FERRY to NOWHERE
by Charles E. Carryl · from The Admiral's Caravan
Adapted Version
Dorothy loved to explore. One day, she found a door. It said 'FERRY'. She went through it.
She saw a strange street. A tall stork stood there. He wore a hat. The hat said 'Ferryman'.
"Fare, please," said the Stork.
Dorothy had no money. She put her hand in her pocket. She found a big cake. She gave it to the Stork.
The Stork ate some cake. "Why do your legs bend that way?" he asked.
"They bend so I can sit," said Dorothy.
The Stork shook his head. "What was your fare for?" he asked.
"I don't know," said Dorothy.
"The ferry goes nowhere," said the Stork. "Do you want a story about it?"
"Yes, please," said Dorothy.
The Stork told a little poem. "The ferry goes here. The ferry goes there. But it never arrives any place."
"I don't get it," said Dorothy.
"Me neither," said the Stork. He went away.
Dorothy decided not to use the ferry. Then, water came out of the house. It was a little flood.
Dorothy climbed onto a window. It was raining inside the house! Then, things came out. A table floated by. Chairs floated by.
A big box came out. Dorothy got on it. She sailed away. She smiled. She wanted to know. Where would she go next?
Original Story
THE FERRY TO NOWHERE
The rain had stopped, and the moon was shining through the breaking clouds, and as Dorothy looked up at the little stone house she saw that it had an archway through it with "FERRY" in large letters on the wall above it. Of course she had no idea of going by herself over a strange ferry; but she was an extremely curious little girl, as you will presently see, and so she immediately ran through the archway to see what the ferry was like and where it took people, but, to her surprise, instead of coming out at the water side, she came into a strange, old-fashioned-looking street as crooked as it could possibly be, and lined on both sides by tall houses with sharply peaked roofs looming up against the evening sky.
"'THEY'RE ENTIRELY DIFFERENT FROM MINE, ANYHOW,' SAID THE STORK."
There was no one in sight but a stork. He was a very tall stork with red legs, and wore a sort of paper bag on his head with "FERRYMAN" written across the front of it; and as Dorothy appeared he held out one of his claws and said, "Fare, please," in quite a matter-of-fact way.
Dorothy was positively certain that she hadn't any money, but she put her hand into the pocket of her apron, partly for the sake of appearances, and partly because she was a little afraid of the Stork, and, to her surprise, pulled out a large cake. It was nearly as big as a saucer, and was marked "ONE BISKER"; and as this seemed to show that it had some value, she handed it to the ferryman. The Stork turned it over several times rather suspiciously, and then, taking a large bite out of it, remarked, "Very good fare," and dropped the rest of it into a little hole in the wall; and having done this he stared gravely at Dorothy for a moment, and then said, "What makes your legs bend the wrong way?"
"Why, they don't!" said Dorothy, looking down at them to see if anything had happened to them.
"They're entirely different from mine, anyhow," said the Stork.
"But, you know," said Dorothy very earnestly, "I couldn't sit down if they bent the other way."
"Sitting down is all very well," said the Stork, with a solemn shake of his head, "but you couldn't collect fares with 'em, to save your life," and with this he went into the house and shut the door.
"It seems to me this is a very strange adventure," said Dorothy to herself. "It appears to be mostly about people's legs," and she was gazing down again in a puzzled way at her little black stockings when she heard a cough, and looking up she saw that the Stork had his head out of a small round window in the wall of the house.
"Look here," he said confidentially, "I forgot to ask what your fare was for." He said this in a sort of husky whisper, and as Dorothy looked up at him it seemed something like listening to an enormous cuckoo-clock with a bad cold in its works.
"IT SEEMED LIKE LISTENING TO AN ENORMOUS CUCKOO-CLOCK."
"I don't think I know exactly what it was for," she said, rather confusedly.
"Well, it's got to be for something, you know, or it won't be fair," said the Stork. "I suppose you don't want to go over the ferry?" he added, cocking his head on one side, and looking down at her, inquiringly.
"Oh, no indeed!" said Dorothy, very earnestly.
"That's lucky," said the Stork. "It doesn't go anywhere that it ever gets to. Perhaps you'd like to hear about it. It's in poetry, you know."
"Thank you," said Dorothy politely. "I'd like it very much."
"All right," said the Stork. "The werses is called 'A Ferry Tale'"; and, giving another cough to clear his voice, he began:
Oh, come and cross over to nowhere,
And go where
The nobodies live on their nothing a day!
A tideful of tricks is this merry
Old Ferry,
And these are the things that it does by the way:
It pours into parks and disperses
The nurses;
It goes into gardens and scatters the cats;
It leaks into lodgings, disorders
The boarders,
And washes away with their holiday hats.
It soaks into shops, and inspires
The buyers
To crawl over counters and climb upon chairs;
It trickles on tailors, it spatters
On hatters,
And makes little milliners scamper up-stairs.
It goes out of town and it rambles
Through brambles;
It wallows in hollows and dives into dells;
It flows into farm-yards and sickens
The chickens,
And washes the wheelbarrows into the wells.
It turns into taverns and drenches
The benches;
It jumps into pumps and comes out with a roar;
It pounds like a postman at lodges—
Then dodges
And runs up the lane when they open the door.
It leaks into laundries and wrangles
With mangles;
It trips over turnips and tumbles down-hill;
It rolls like a coach along highways
And byways,
But never gets anywhere, go as it will!
Oh, foolish old Ferry! all muddles
And puddles—
Go fribble and dribble along on your way;
We drink to your health with molasses
In glasses,
And waft you farewell with a handful of hay!
"What do you make out of it?" inquired the Stork anxiously.
"I don't make anything out of it," said Dorothy, staring at him in great perplexity.
"I didn't suppose you would," said the Stork, apparently very much relieved. "I've been at it for years and years, and I've never made sixpence out of it yet," with which remark he pulled in his head and disappeared.
"I don't know what he means, I'm sure," said Dorothy, after waiting a moment to see if the Stork would come back, "but I wouldn't go over that ferry for sixty sixpences. It's altogether too frolicky"; and having made this wise resolution, she was just turning to go back through the archway when the door of the house flew open and a little stream of water ran out upon the pavement. This was immediately followed by another and much larger flow, and the next moment the water came pouring out through the doorway in such a torrent that she had just time to scramble up on the window-ledge before the street was completely flooded.
"'DEAR ME!' SHE EXCLAIMED, 'HERE COMES ALL THE FURNITURE!'"
Dorothy's first idea was that there was something wrong with the pipes, but as she peeped in curiously through the window she was astonished to see that it was raining hard inside the house—"and dear me!" she exclaimed, "here comes all the furniture!" and, sure enough, the next moment a lot of old-fashioned furniture came floating out of the house and drifted away down the street. There was a corner cupboard full of crockery, and two spinning-wheels, and a spindle-legged table set out with a blue-and-white tea-set and some cups and saucers, and finally a carved sideboard which made two or three clumsy attempts to get through the doorway broadside on, and then took a fresh start, and came through endwise with a great flourish. All of these things made quite a little fleet, and the effect was very imposing; but by this time the water was quite up to the window-ledge, and as the sideboard was a fatherly-looking piece of furniture with plenty of room to move about in, Dorothy stepped aboard of it as it went by, and, sitting down on a little shelf that ran along the back of it, sailed away in the wake of the tea-table.
CHAPTER III
Story DNA
Plot Summary
A curious girl named Dorothy discovers a mysterious archway labeled 'FERRY' and steps through it, expecting a waterside, but instead finds a strange street and a talking stork ferryman. She pays him with a magical cake, endures his nonsensical questions, and listens to his poem about the ferry that goes everywhere but never arrives. Deciding against taking the ferry, Dorothy is then caught in a sudden flood as the house itself begins pouring water and furniture into the street, forcing her to escape by boarding a floating sideboard and sailing away into the unknown.
Themes
Emotional Arc
curiosity to bewilderment to amused escape
Writing Style
Narrative Elements
Cultural Context
Charles E. Carryl was an American author known for his nonsense verse and children's stories, often compared to Lewis Carroll.
Plot Beats (13)
- Dorothy, a curious girl, discovers a stone house with an archway labeled 'FERRY' and passes through it.
- Instead of a waterside, she finds a crooked, old-fashioned street and a tall stork wearing a 'FERRYMAN' hat.
- The stork demands fare, and Dorothy, to her surprise, pulls a large cake marked 'ONE BISKER' from her apron pocket to pay him.
- The stork eats part of the cake, then questions Dorothy about her legs bending 'the wrong way'.
- The stork then asks what her fare was for, explaining the ferry 'doesn't go anywhere that it ever gets to'.
- He offers to tell her about it in a poem called 'A Ferry Tale', which he recites.
- The poem describes the ferry's chaotic, nonsensical actions, going everywhere but never arriving anywhere.
- Dorothy admits she makes nothing of the poem, and the stork, relieved, says he hasn't either for years.
- After the stork disappears, Dorothy resolves not to take the 'frolicky' ferry.
- Suddenly, water begins pouring out of the house, rapidly flooding the street.
- Dorothy scrambles onto a window-ledge to escape the rising water and sees it's raining inside the house.
- Furniture begins floating out of the house and down the street, forming a 'little fleet'.
- Dorothy boards a large, fatherly-looking sideboard as it floats by and sails away in the wake of the other furniture.
Characters
Dorothy ★ protagonist
A small, curious girl. Her legs are described as bending 'the wrong way' by the Stork, implying typical human leg structure. She wears black stockings.
Attire: A simple apron with a pocket, worn over her clothing. She wears little black stockings.
Wants: Driven by curiosity to explore new things and understand strange situations.
Flaw: Easily confused by illogical or nonsensical situations, which can leave her perplexed.
She experiences a bizarre adventure, learning that not everything makes sense, but she remains grounded in her own logic.
Extremely curious, polite, earnest, easily confused, observant, sensible (making a 'wise resolution' about the ferry).
Image Prompt & Upload
A small human girl standing upright, facing forward, full body visible from head to toe. She has a curious and slightly puzzled expression. She wears a simple, light-colored dress with a practical apron tied at the waist, and little black stockings. Her hands are often near her apron pocket or gesturing slightly in confusion. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Stork ◆ supporting
A very tall stork with long, slender red legs. He has a large beak and a solemn demeanor.
Attire: A paper bag on his head with 'FERRYMAN' written across the front.
Wants: To collect 'fare' for a ferry that goes nowhere, and to recite his nonsensical poetry.
Flaw: His logic is completely circular and nonsensical, making him ineffective as a ferryman and confusing to others.
Remains unchanged, continuing his nonsensical duties and recitations.
Matter-of-fact, suspicious (about the 'fare'), solemn, confidentially husky, nonsensical, anxious (about his poetry), easily relieved.
Image Prompt & Upload
A very tall stork standing upright, facing forward, full body visible from head to toe. It has long, slender red legs and a large beak. On its head, it wears a paper bag with 'FERRYMAN' clearly written across the front. Its expression is solemn and slightly inquiring. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Locations
The Ferryman's Stone House
A small stone house with an archway through it, bearing the large letters 'FERRY' above the arch. It has a small round window from which the Stork speaks. The interior is initially unseen but later revealed to be flooding with rain and furniture.
Mood: mysterious, slightly eerie, whimsical
Dorothy encounters the Stork ferryman, pays her fare with a cake, and later witnesses the house flooding with furniture.
Image Prompt & Upload
A small, ancient stone house with a prominent archway, through which a dimly lit, crooked street is visible. Above the arch, the word 'FERRY' is carved in large, weathered letters. The moon, partially obscured by breaking clouds, casts soft, uneven light on the rough-hewn stone walls. A small, circular window is set into the stone, glowing faintly from within. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Crooked, Old-Fashioned Street
A strange, old-fashioned street, extremely crooked, lined on both sides by tall houses with sharply peaked roofs looming against the evening sky. The street later becomes completely flooded with water.
Mood: quaint, disorienting, surreal, later chaotic
Dorothy first enters this street, meets the Stork, and later escapes the flooding house by boarding a floating sideboard.
Image Prompt & Upload
A dramatically crooked, narrow street paved with uneven cobblestones, winding between tall, half-timbered houses with steeply pitched, dark slate roofs that loom against a moonlit, cloud-streaked sky. The architectural style suggests an old European town, perhaps German or Dutch, with some houses leaning precariously. Soft moonlight illuminates the irregular facades and casts long, distorted shadows down the winding path. Later, the street is submerged under a swirling torrent of water, with antique wooden furniture floating haphazardly. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
