His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer.
One day, while trying to eek 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 of."

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
Churchill.  His son's name? Sir Winston Churchill.
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Someone once said what goes around comes around.
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Work like you don't need the money.
Love like you've never been hurt.
Dance like nobody's watching.