Fiftieth Anniversary of the Cranberry Club. The Cranb rry Club, as I remember its beginning was the outgrowth of a kind of cult of islands by our elders, devoutly followed by the youngers in the late eighteen eighties and early nineties. At that time, before motor cars, climbing a mountain with no trail, or going straight up Jordan Cliff or Dog (now called I think St. Sauveur ( was an excitement for the younger ones and both old and young lov ed them. One boy and girl rowed to East Bunkers Ledge and sat there all one after- noon smoking cigarettes till very nearly marooned. The incoming tide had floated their boat off and they had so me difficulty and excitement in salvaging it. We were as daring as that, we Victorians! The fascination for islands depended largely on the pilgrimage attitude of dif- ficulty of attainment. Bear Island, Green- ing, Sutton, Little Cranberry, Great Cranberry in the order named, to be followed by Baker, the Ducks, finally culminating in Burnt Coat and Gotts.