Of course Roscoe and I are older, and when we were boys we were too big to play with him, but he never played anyway, with boys his own age.

He'd rather just sit in the house and mope around by himself.
Nobody could ever get him to DO anything; you can't get him to do anything now.

He never had any LIFE in him; and honestly, if he is my brother, I must say I believe Bibbs Sheridan is the laziest man God ever made! Father put him in the machine-shop over at the Pump Works--best thing in the world for him--and he was just plain no account.

It made him sick! If he'd had the right kind of energy--the kind father's got, for instance, or Roscoe, either--why, it wouldn't have made him sick.
And suppose it was either of them--yes, or me, either--do you think any of us would have stopped if we WERE sick?
Not much! I hate to say it, but Bibbs Sheridan'll never amount to anything as long as he lives." Mary looked thoughtful.

"Is there any particular reason why he should ?" she asked.
"Good gracious!" he exclaimed.