The hack does feel the difference between himself and the artist.

Cathro might possibly have had the idea, he could not have cut it out.
_But_ the hack is sometimes, or usually, or nearly always the artist's master, and can make him suffer for his dem'd superiority.
"What made you snivel when you read the pathetic bits ?" asked Cathro, with itching fingers.
"I was so sorry for Peter and Mrs.Dinnie," Tommy answered, a little puzzled himself now.

"I saw them so clear." "And yet until Betsy came to you, you had never heard tell of them ?" "No." "And on reflection you don't care a doit about them ?" "N-no." "And you care as little for Betsy ?" "No now, but at the time I a kind of thought I was to be married to Andrew." "And even while you blubbered you were saying to yourself, 'What a clever billie I am!'" Mr.Cathro had certainly intended to end the scene with the strap, but as he stretched out his hand for it he had another idea.

"Do you know why Nether Drumgley's sheep are branded with the letters N.D. ?" he asked his pupils, and a dozen replied, "So as all may ken wha they belong to." "Precisely," said Mr.Cathro, "and similarly they used to brand a letter on a felon, so that all might know whom _he_ belonged to." He crossed to the fireplace, and, picking up a charred stick, wrote with it on the forehead of startled Tommy the letters "S.T." "Now," said the Dominie complacently, "we know to whom Tommy belongs." All were so taken aback that for some seconds nothing could be heard save Tommy indignantly wiping his brow; then "Wha is he ?" cried one, the mouthpiece of half a hundred.
"He is one of the two proprietors we have just been speaking of," replied Cathro, dryly, and turning again to Tommy, he said, "Wipe away, Sentimental Tommy, try hot water, try cold water, try a knife, but you will never get those letters off you; you are branded for ever and ever.".