Long ago, there was a man called Fleming and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and run 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 scotman’s sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy 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 provide him with the level of education my own son will enjoy. If the lad is anything like his father, he will no doubt grow to be a man we both will be proud of’.

And that he faithfully did. Farmer Fleming’s son attended the very best schools and in time, graduated from Saint Mary’s hospital medical school in London and went on to become known through out the world as the famous sir Alexander Fleming the discoverer of penicillin.

Years afterward, the same nobleman’s son who was saved from the bog was stricken with pneumonia. What saved his life this time? Penicillin. The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Church hill. His son’s name? Sir Winston Church hill.

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