Funny old rhyme, about magpies.
One for sorrow.
Two for joy,
Three is a girl,
And four is a boy.
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven is a secret,
Never to be told,
Eight is a wish,
Nine a kiss.
Ten is the bird,
You must not miss.
Three, so are you going to have a granddaughter ?
There are several old versions of the rhyme, which is perhaps the last scrap of the once common practice of ornithomancy, still in common use. One old version I read, replaced the line. "Seven is a secret, never to be told." With the line. "Seven is a baby buried in the woods." I hope times have moved on, a bit since those days.