Pipe up, my boy, if you can.

I couldn't sing softly if I tried.

Can he sing ?" he enquired of French.
"Don't know.

Sing up, Kalman, if you can," said French.
Then Kalman sat up and sang.

Strong, pure, clear, his voice rose upon the night until it seemed to fill the whole space of clearing and to soar away off into the sky.