For the Little Busy Bee.--Next to the poultry tents, and set back against the yard fencing, is the exhibition of Messrs. George Neighbour and Sons, 127, High Holborn, and 149, Regent Street, London, inventors and manufacturers of improved bee-hives for taking honey without the destruction of the bees. The savage knows where to find the nest of the wild bee, and how to get at his honey; but all the improvement upon the covetousness of the savage made by the long after ages of the world to modern times, was to find the means of luring the pattern of industry to a convenient atelier, where he might be more easily first murdered and then robbed. Their habits early attracted the attention of some of the best observers of ancient as well as modern times. Cicero and Pliny tell of the philosopher Hyliscus quitting human society, and retiring to the desert to contemplate their peaceful industry. The ancient poet, in his _Sic vos vobis_, plaintively sings over bee and beast living, or rather dying, not for themselves, but the lord of creation, yet was it left to modern times--very modern times--to join the sentiment of humanity to the rapacity of the barbarian. Mr. Neighbour has a very complete collection of specimens of the ingenious and successful contrivances in the construction of hives for the double object of preserving the honey and the life of the bee, and also subsidiarily of promoting its comfort during its busy and useful life. We are not allowed to forget here that we have residing in our city one of the first apiarians in the kingdom--Mr. Thomas Woodbury, of Mount Radford. If the bee-philosophy be his hobby, we must recollect that all great discoveries and improvements owe their existence to men who had the power and the will to concentrate their faculties upon a single object. One proof of his genius in this his favourite department of action, is seen among this collection of Mr. Neighbour's, in the "Woodbury Unicomb Hive." It might be, when closed up, for aught that appears, a neat case of books; but on opening two doors of the Venetian blind pattern, back and front, we see between the glass walls the insect city exposed to view, with all the population in action. There it may be seen "How skilfully she builds her cell; How neat she spreads her wax; And labours hard to store it well With the sweet food she makes."