I can't pension him.

I've no money for it." Here the president slackened a little in his walk and looked sideways at the prospective benefactor.

But Tomlinson gave no sign.
A second professorial figure passed them on the other side.
"There again," said the president, "that's another case of inefficiency--Professor Shottat, our senior professor of English." "What's wrong with _him_ ?" asked the Wizard.
"He can't handle _small_ classes," said the president.

"With large classes he is really excellent, but with small ones the man is simply hopeless." In this fashion, before Mr.Tomlinson had measured the length of the avenue, he had had ample opportunity to judge of the crying need of money at Plutoria University, and of the perplexity of its president.
He was shown professors who could handle the first year, but were powerless with the second; others who were all right with the second but broke down with the third, while others could handle the third but collapsed with the fourth.

There were professors who were all right in their own subject, but perfectly impossible outside of it; others who were so occupied outside of their own subject that they were useless inside of it; others who knew their subject, but couldn't lecture; and others again who lectured admirably, but didn't know their subject.
In short it was clear--as it was meant to be--that the need of the moment was a sum of money sufficient to enable the president to dismiss everybody but himself and Dr.Boyster.The latter stood in a class all by himself.