the cabin

"though eight o'clock, it was still dark outside, and the cabin was lighted by a tallow candle thrust into an empty whisky bottle. it stood on the pine-board table in the middle of a disarray of dirty tin dishes. tallow from innumerable candles had dripped down the long neck of the bottle and hardened into a miniature glacier. the small room, which composed the entire cabin, was as badly littered as the table; while at one end, against the wall, were two bunks, one above the other, with the blankets turned down just as the two men had crawled out in the morning." jack london