If that should be the case, you can find them at the Bayville Historical Museum, in all sizes, colors and designs, from Pre-Colombian marbles to Lyndon B. Johnson's collection, to the latest samples fabricated in Les Marbles' workshop in Oyster Bay.

Les Marbles (a most appropriate pseudonym) owns and operates the Pine Island Etch & Sign company on Pine Hollow Rd. in Oyster Bay, but his all-consuming hobby and passion is his marble collection, slowly but surely climbing to the two million figure. He is the undisputed king of all marble collectors, and his avuncular, white-bearded appearance underlines the dignity of his position.

He presided over the museum's opening on Sunday afternoon and fascinated his audience with tales from his decades of marble collecting, which began at age 7 when a relative gave him his first marbles.

"My house is drowning in marbles, boxes filled with marbles stacked in every room. When I get a call that someone wants to sell his marble collection, I drop everything and go." Collecting can become an addiction, and Les Marbles' addiction is incurable.

Les has chosen samples of his almost infinite variety of marbles for this exhibit, most of them from the late 19th to the early 20th centuries. "In the fifties, when parking lots and open spaces were covered with asphalt, kids stopped playing marbles." I remember from my childhood in Germany - ages ago - that playing marbles was a daily routine after school, and during school recess in the school yard. We played with cheap clay marbles in different colors. Glass marbles, with swirls inside, were highly prized and could be swapped for a whole fistful of clay marbles.

The museum display shows Pre-Columbian clay marbles form 80 BC, large Agate shooters in their natural colors, glass marbles with tiny sculptures inside, "German Swirls," marbles with stripes in all colors of the rainbow, each pattern calling for different techniques in the making. Les explained that making glass marbles was part of the apprenticeship of any aspiring glass blower in earlier times.

"The apprentice started with plain glass marbles. When he was able to make 10,000 marbles of uniform size, he graduated to swirls and stripes, again having to prove that he could make 10,000 of the same size. And so it went on to more and more complex marble patterns, until the apprentice could be trusted to produce uneven size?"

As Les explained the process of making marbles by first heating the glass, pushing a heated rod through an elongated mass of hot glass, then shaping each marble and cutting it off (after three marbles the rod had to be reheated), one could only wonder at the manual dexterity required for this delicate operation. Later on, machines took over for the mass production of marbles.

Les spoke lovingly of the most precious specimens in his vast collection. "I wouldn't sell this one for a million dollars," and he pointed to an intricately patterned marble which, to the casual eye, did not look so very different from its neighbors. "It's the only one of its kind in existence," he explained. Rare marbles can sell for a thousand dollars, or even more. He brought along some antique marble games, where marbles chase down wooden structures, a favorite with children visiting the exhibit. His T-shirt (his won design) proclaims: I've Got All My Marbles, And I Want Yours Too!

Go, see this remarkable marble collection, and bring the kids. The museum is open on Tuesdays and Sundays from 1 to 3 p.m. For information call 628-1720 or 628-1439.

Four-hand piano playing is great fun for those who do it, but it does not necessarily thrill audiences. During my teens in Berlin I had the good fortune of playing four-hands every week with a friend of the family, a rehearsal pianist and conductor at the Berlin State Opera House. We played four-hand arrangements of the symphonic literature, from Haydn to Mahler, mainly to satisfy his frustrated ambition to conduct a symphony orchestra.

"Fake what you can't play," he advised me, "but stay with me." If nothing else, I became thoroughly familiar with the symphonic literature. But four-hand playing on a concert stage?

The Zaitsev Piano Duo, part of the concert series sponsored by the Town of Oyster Bay Cultural and Performing Arts, appeared at the Locust Valley Library on April 5 and found a most responsive and enthusiastic audience. Vladimir and Nadia Zaitsev (husband and wife from the Ukraine and Russia respectively) are both talented pianists with solid technique and a good sense for what makes a program interesting. They opened with a popular Handel arrangement, played Glinka's Capriccio on Russian Themes, followed with Schubert's wonderful Fantasy in F minor, one of the most satisfying original compositions for duo pianists. Several of Brahms' Hungarian Dances concluded the first half. Louis Moreau Gottschalk's music was presented after intermission, and a rousing rendition of Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue ended the program.

What distinguishes this attractive couple ( they met in New York at a piano competition) from other performers in their field is Vladimir's refreshing sense of humor and perfect timing for offhand remarks, while offering interesting details about composers and compositions. He does not lecture or treat the audience like a high school music appreciation class. He knows that a concert has to be entertaining, and if the audience learns a couple of things in the process, so much the better. For instance, it is hardly common knowledge that Gottschalk suffered under the low esteem accorded all American composers in the 19th century, yet he was the first American pianist to be invited to perform at the White House in 1862.

It was an enjoyable afternoon. The Locust Valley Library and the Performing Arts Division of the Town of Oyster Bay has shown good judgment by choosing to present this delightful Piano Duo to our community. What's more, these concerts are free, and Friends of the Library offer generous refreshments during intermission.