An illustration from Past, Present and Future by James E. White (1909).

"The Real Music of the Future": an illustration from an 1888 issue of Punch magazine.  The caption reads: "Signor Fohhorni, the Great Hibernian Basso-Tenore Robusto-Profondo, is so disgusted at the frivolity of contemporary musical taste (which is not ripe enough to appreciate him), that he gives up all attempts to please the present generation: he buys a phonograph instead, and devotes his energies to singing for posterity.  By applying his ear to this marvellous instrument immediately after signing into it, he not only hears his song echoed back to him out of the dim future, but he also hears the rapturous applause of Unborn Millions!"

"The Reciter's Motto": an illustration from The Aldine Reciter by Alfred Henry Miles (1888).

You've heard of whistling the face of adversity, but here's what to do in an encounter with cannibals, from Among Cannibals: An Account of Four Years' Travels in Australia by Carl Lumholtz (1889).

"Lyrics no longer have the power they used to." —Shindō Kazuma

Suspense is overrated.  Sometimes it's lovely to have questions answered immediately.  Take the story "Julia's Little Weakness" (from The Lady's Realm, 1900).  What's Julia's little weakness?  The very first sentence illuminates us forthwith: "It was for 'stars.'"  Belated thanks, Philippa Trent, for getting right to it!  (And for beginning her story with a long dash!)

An illustration from The Gate Beautiful by John Ward Stimson (1903).  The caption reads: "The Law of the Three Primaries."

"Somnambulist—Playing while asleep": an illustration from Hypnotism: Its Facts, Theories and Related Phenomena by Carl Sextus (1893).

Too few pick up a cornet, and fewer still seize it.  "Norman seized his cornet": To-Day magazine, 1873.

An illustration from a 1908 issue of Punch magazine.

An illustration from an 1886 issue of Punch magazine.  The caption reads: "The New Verb: Banjo, Banjab, Banjat — Banjamus, Banjatis, Banjant!"

"I could have sworn I heard a violin playing 'The Last Rose of Summer.' In waltz time, no less."
—Eugenia Riley, Waltz in Time (1997)

This "scarf for upright piano" appears in Arthur's Home Magazine, 1887.  It's described as "One of the most unique scarfs for an upright piano I have seen in a long time."  We can say without hesitation that it's the first scarf for an upright piano we've ever seen!