His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish
farmer. One day, while trying to eke out a
living for his family, he heard a cry for help
coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his
tools and ran to the bog. There, mired to his
waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming
and struggling to free himself. Farmer
Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a
slow and terrifying death.
The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the
Scotsman's sparse surroundings. An elegantly
dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself
as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had
saved. "I want to repay you," said the
nobleman, "you saved my son's life."
"No, I can't accept payment for what I did," the
Scottish farmer replied, waving off the
offer. At that moment, the farmer's own son
came to the door of the family hovel. "Is
that your son?" the nobleman asked. "Yes,"
the farmer replied proudly. "I'll make you a
deal. Let me take him and give him a good
education. If the lad is anything like his
father, he'll grow to a man you can be proud
And that he did. In time Farmer Fleming's
son graduated from St. Mary's Hospital Medical
School in London and went on to become known
throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander
Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin. Years
afterward, the nobleman's son was stricken with
pneumonia. What saved him? Penicillin.
The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph
His son's name? Sir Winston Churchill.
Someone once said what goes around,