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So Shakespeare has it, too, in his play of "1 Henry IV.," act ii. scene 1: "We have the receipt of fern seed, we walk invisible."

She sat rocking herself to and fro in her sorrow, while the old woman threw the fern seed, picked, alas! too late, into the driftwood fire.

My, my, I was forgetting all about the children and the mysterious fern seed.

May the magic of fern seed fill your eyes and let you see visions, the goodly things of heart's desire, when, all being accomplished, you pause and look at the work of your hands.

If I could wear fern seed in my shoes to make me invisible, and sit on the piazza railing in a shirt-waist and a short skirt, I would love it.