"I would treat him as he treats me now," replied Cyrus. "I would stand at the door, as he does when I want to come in, and when he was coming for his dinner, I would stop him and say, 'You can not come in now; he is busy with some men.'" In saying this, Cyrus imitated, in a very ludicrous manner, the gravity and dignity of the Sacian's air and manner. "Then," he continued, "when he came to supper, I would say, 'He is bathing now; you must come some other time;' or else, 'He is going to sleep, and you will disturb him.' So I would torment him all the time, as he now torments me, in keeping me out when I want to come and see you." Such conversation as this, half playful, half earnest, of course amused Astyages and Mandane very much, as well as all the other listeners. There is a certain charm in the simplicity and confiding frankness of childhood, when it is honest and sincere, which in Cyrus's case was heightened by his personal grace and beauty. He became, in fact, more and more a favorite the longer he remained. At length, the indulgence and the attentions which he received began to produce, in some degree, their usual injurious effects. Cyrus became too talkative, and sometimes he appeared a little vain. Still, there was so much true kindness of heart, such consideration for the feelings of others, and so respectful a regard for his grandfather, his mother, and his uncle,[A] that his faults were overlooked, and he was the life and soul of the company in all the social gatherings which took place in the palaces of the king. [Footnote A: The uncle here referred to was Mandane's brother. His name was Oyaxares. He was at this time a royal prince, the heir apparent to the throne. He figures very conspicuously in the subsequent portions of Xenophon's history as Astyages's successor on the throne. Herodotus does not mention him at all, but makes Cyrus himself the direct successor of Astyages.]