Scotland, in the late 1800's.
His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while working his fields and trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. Knowing right away what could be happening, he dropped is tools and ran to the bog.

There, mired waist-deep in the black muck of the bog, was a terrified little boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming drug the boy from the bog, saving him from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.

The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the farmer's sparse surroundings. An elegantly-dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the little boy Farmer Fleming had saved the previous day. 

"I want to repay you," said the nobleman. "You saved my son's life." "No I cannot 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 be 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. And his son? Sir Winston Churchill.