We must not even yet regard the potter’s work as finished. He had to superintend the sale, attract customers, confer with shipowners in regard to the export. Nor was advertising unknown to the ancients. It adopted many devices. Some potters contrived to paint on the vase subjects or inscriptions alluding to the products therein. There are scenes of wine and oil sales, with sentences, praising the merchandise or the honesty of the merchant. There are incentives to the pleasure of drinking, friendly greetings and wishes of good health to him who will use the kylix or kantharos. Even the details of the potter’s trade have served as matter for representation, to recall to the customer the fame of Attic workshops. The prettiest allegory is the one we mentioned above, where we saw Athene accompanied by two little Victories entering a workshop of painters and placing crowns on the heads of the workmen (Fig. 2). [Illustration: Fig. 11. THE ADVENTURES OF THESEUS. By Douris. British Museum.] But the means most frequently adopted to attract buyers was to inscribe on the body of a vase the name of some young man of distinguished family in Athens, known either for his beauty or his fortune, and in this way to gain the good-will of a rich customer, who would bring the patronage of all his family and friends. We have a large number of such inscriptions wherein the manufacturer invokes “the handsome Leagros,” “the handsome Glaukon,” or “the handsome Megakles,” etc., and we recognize in these names well-known members of the Athenian aristocracy (Figs. 5, 7, 8). It will be remembered that the Italian potters of the sixteenth century put into circulation _coppe amatorie_, bearing portraits of beautiful women, surrounded by inscriptions celebrating _Lucrezia diva_ or “the fair Camilla.” This is a similar idea. Lastly, we have one example of a personal advertisement in rather an aggressive form, coming from Euthymides, a contemporary and rival of Euphronios. Upon an amphora in the Museum at Munich, the boastful craftsman has written this defiant apostrophe: “Euphronios has never done so well!”